More Things in Heaven and Earth
by Jack E. Peace
Summary: They're only about twenty minutes from St. Agnes but Skye feels like she's entering a whole new planet. That's how she always feels when she gets dropped into a new foster home: new home, new rules, new people to disappoint, new school, new lies to tell her new "friends." She's a pro at it by now but that doesn't mean she's a fan. (High School AU)
1. Act One

**Disclaimer: **Characters don't belong to me. Any references to and lines from _Hamlet_ should be credited to William Shakespeare.

**A/N: **This story got way out of hand. I'll definitely be the first to admit it. It started innocently enough...there was a funny text post floating around on tumblr about how there should be less coffee shop AUs and more "putting on a production of _Hamlet_" AUs and then my brain started working independently of my good sense. So this is definitely, definitely an AU and I had so much fun writing Skye, Jemma and Fitz as high school students that I got carried away. So...I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

**I. **

It should come as no surprise that Skye is only partially listening as her social worker talks about her new placement. At this point, it doesn't really matter what this lady is saying, Skye has heard it all already. Instead she's just watching the city as it passes by the car window; it's a habit of hers, one she's picked up during rides just like this one. She can't stop herself from looking at the houses and cars they pass and wondering about the people who inhabit them. When she was younger she used to wonder if a family that would love her lived in one of those houses or maybe even her real parents. Now she just wonders what kind of weird shit they deal with that the neighbors don't know about.

"Margaret Mary." The social worker says her name sharply and Skye glances away from the window, pursing her lips in a scowl. "Are you listening?"

Skye sighs and leans back in her seat, her head knocking against the headrest. "Yes." She doesn't even bother to correct her about the name thing. There's no point, she's learned that by now. None of the nuns at St. Agnes will call her anything other than Margaret Mary, which is a ridiculous mouthful all on its own plus the fact that she was named after the patron saint of lost parents has never failed to amuse Skye. Right.

Allison Martinez gives Skye a doubtful look but she doesn't press the issue. Instead she just says, "I think you'll really like it here. If you actually try."

Skye makes a noise that might be a scoff crossed with a barely contained scream of frustration. Like she hasn't tried at the dozens of other foster homes she's been stuck in since she was five years old. Like she even wants to be going to this stupid new foster home. She's sixteen, seriously. What's the freaking point anymore? She should have run away with Ward when she had the chance.

"Mr. Coulson is a published author, you know." Miss Martinez says as though Skye will actually care about any of that crap. "He's got a few best sellers." Skye turns to look toward the window once more. "He has a nice big house."

Like Skye cares about the size of the house she'll probably live in for a few weeks. In hopes of getting her case worker to stop prattling about stupid stuff, Skye asks what she considers to be the most important question, "They have other kids?" She feels like it's a natural question after the tantalizing tidbit about the big house.

"No, no other kids." Miss Martinez replies, tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel. "And it's just Mr. Coulson, actually."

This catches Skye's attention. She whips her head back in Miss Martinez's direction, narrowing her eyes slightly. "What? Isn't that…like really unusual?" You can't blame her for being a little bit cagey. She's heard enough horror stories about foster fathers without needing to be dropped into a situation where there's no foster mother to help even things out.

"Well…yes…a little." Miss Martinez mutters. If she realizes the reason for Skye's question she doesn't bring it up. Better to sweep those issues on the rug, after all. "Mr. Coulson's wife recently died, actually. About seven months ago. Car accident. They'd been going through all the paperwork and red tape with the adoption agency and when it cleared I guess he decided to go through the adoption anyway."

Skye doesn't know how to feel about this information. Sure she feels bad about the dead wife but what does this Coulson guy need a surly teenager for? Doesn't he have enough problems? "They wanted a baby." It's not really a question, not the way that she says it.

The social worker just shrugs. "Things change."

Obviously. Skye knows that better than anyone. Which is why she's in the passenger seat of this car, once again, heading to a new foster home, once again, and already mentally ticking off the days in her head until she gets sent back to St. Agnes. Once again.

Thankfully Miss Martinez stops trying to make conversation and Skye is able to watch the houses and cars and restaurants and stores pass by in relative peace. They're only about twenty minutes from St. Agnes but Skye feels like she's entering a whole new planet. That's how she always feels when she gets dropped into a new foster home: new home, new rules, new people to disappoint, new school, new lies to tell her new "friends." She's a pro at it by now but that doesn't mean she's a fan.

Finally they turn into a neighborhood and the houses aren't exactly the mansions that Miss Martinez painted them out to be. They're all modest two-story homes with yards and cute little shutters and gardens in the front and college football team pennants flapping in the breeze. Skye can't help but take in her surroundings curiously as they move through the neighborhood, wondering which home will be hers for the time being. She and Ward used to think of foster homes like hotels, places you checked into for a while when you were visiting somewhere new. As soon as Skye stopped thinking about them as permanent residences, things got better.

The house that Miss Martinez pulls into has a wraparound porch and a few potted plants on the stairs and a few more hanging from the eaves of the porch. There's nothing else that sets this house apart from the others on the block; even the welcome mat is painfully generic. Skye hefts her computer bag onto her shoulder as she studies the house. She likes it better when they're like this, when it could be any house in any city in any state.

Skye follows Miss Martinez up the driveway, ignoring the look her social work gives her when she lets her suitcase bump loudly up the porch steps. She waits for Miss Martinez to ring the bell and tries to fight down the nerves that she's suddenly feeling. Skye feels childish for the butterflies in her stomach; she should be over this by now. She's disgusted by the little part of herself that still wants the person on the other side of the door to like her.

The door swings open and Skye finds herself face to face with her new foster parent; much like his house, Phil Coulson could be any man in any city in any state. He seems to have accepted middle-age gracefully and Skye might even go as far as to call him handsome for an old guy, of course. His smile is warm enough but she notices that it doesn't reach his eyes.

Coulson greets Miss Martinez with a handshake and then surprises Skye by doing the same to her, as though they're about to sit down to a business meeting or something. She's used to the nervous chatter or the awkward and uncomfortable hugs or high-fives. But she's never gotten a handshake before. Interesting.

"You must be Margaret Mary." Coulson says and Skye just grunts because duh, who else would she be? And again with that stupid name. Ugh. "Welcome."

Skye doesn't say anything. Coulson doesn't seem bothered by this silence, turning around and gesturing for them to follow him down the hallway toward the living room. Miss Martinez glares at her and jabs Skye sharply in the ribs. "Manners." She hisses. "What about trying?"

_This is me trying_, Skye wants to remark but it would probably just lead to another rib jabbing. She really just wants to know where her bedroom is so she has a place to hole herself up in with her computer.

Miss Martinez sits down on the couch next to Coulson and pulls a huge file out of her attaché case. Skye knows that's her file, bursting with paperwork about how she's a behavioral problem and full of the stories of her failed placements. She doesn't really want to sit around and listen to this conversation again, so while Miss Martinez starts going over the particulars with Coulson, Skye takes herself on a tour of the living room.

The house, as far as she can tell anyway, seems impressively neat and tidy, with everything arranged just so. There are rows and rows of books on shelves and she realizes that they're arranged alphabetically by author and the DVDs in the entertainment center are set up by title and genre. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. No wonder Coulson wanted an older kid.

Skye walks over to the mantle above the fireplace (she's never had a real fireplace or mantle before, it's annoyingly picturesque) and studies the framed pictures arranged on top. There are about a half dozen of Coulson and a smiling woman that Skye assumes was his wife: two from their wedding day, a few from various vacations. They look pretty happy. There are two of the woman by herself and Skye wonders if Coulson took them or if it makes him sad to see them in the living room every day. There's one of the wife on the beach, shielding her eyes from the sun and another of her sitting with a huge violin looking thing propped against her legs. Skye wonders if they were really as perfect as they pictures make them seem.

When all the papers have been signed and Skye is pretty sure that Miss Martinez has told Coulson fifteen times to call at the first sign of trouble, the social worker finally takes her leave and Skye is alone, once again, with the person who has had the bad luck of letting her into his home. Skye looks at Coulson expectantly, not interested in being the one to make the first move. She gives them four weeks, tops. And that's being generous.

Coulson is the first one to break the silence but he doesn't seem flustered by this fact or desperate for anything to talk about. "Let me show you to your room. I'm sure you want to get yourself all settled in."

Skye scoffs once more and shakes her head slightly. Settled in, yeah right. She never took her stuff out of her suitcase at the last foster home. Two weeks. She called that one too. But she grabs her suitcase and Coulson ignores her as she drags it noisily up the staircase.

There are a few more framed pictures on the wall and a few pieces of artwork that ascend as they do. Skye studies them out of the corner of her eye as they pass, taking in the perfect snapshots of a seemingly perfect life.

"There are two guest rooms." Coulson explains once they reach the second story. "You can take your pick." He points to the door at the end of the hallway. "That's the master and that," he gestures toward the closed door next to it, "is my study. I can't think of why you'd need to go in there but just ask, okay?"

Skye just nods. She wonders if she'll get sent back to St. Agnes for somehow messing up his museum-like house. Everything looks so white and new and perfect. She almost feels bad for walking across the carpet.

Coulson hangs back as Skye peeks her head into the guest rooms before picking the one to the left because one hotel room is as good as any other, right? "Do you prefer Margaret or Mary?" He questions, then pauses. "Or Meg?"

"Actually, I prefer Skye." She informs him frankly as she throws her suitcase onto the bed. She's said the same thing to everyone else that she's ever come into contact with but most of her foster parents just end up calling her Margaret. There was one really annoying foster "dad" who insisted on calling her M&M. Coulson doesn't look like he's going to call her M&M at least.

Coulson nods. "Okay, Skye it is." He says with a little shrug. "Don't let me crowd you. I'll be downstairs if you need anything or have any questions."

Skye stares after him, her surprise evident on her face. She's used to the hovering parents, the people who are still trying to be the upstanding members of society that help poor little orphans. Eventually they get tired of the fake smiles and trying to be understanding of her surly attitude. Or they realize that having a kid around isn't all it's cracked up to be. But Skye has never had someone who just gave her space or acted like it was perfectly normal for her to be there. It's kind of nice…normal. Weird.

She doesn't like it.

The only thing Skye unpacks is her laptop, which she sets on the desk that is already in the room. The room is sparsely furnished, with only a bed, desk and dresser and they all match. There's a painting on one wall of a field and a barely visible figure frolicking through it with a dog. At least Coulson didn't try to decorate it for her. The last people she stayed with decorated the room like she was still ten years old. Of course, they already had two younger kids so maybe that was just their default setting.

Skye connects to the Internet with ease even though Coulson is on a secure network and goes to the dummy site that she and Ward set up so they'd have a way to contact each other no matter where they were. Now he's the one that's gone to parts unknown and Skye is a little disappointed to find that there's no message from him updating her on his whereabouts. But she leaves him one anyway: _new foster prison, oh goody_. Short and sweet. Hopefully it'll get his attention.

Skye stays at the desk for the next several hours, happy to let time get away from her as she surfs through the Internet and watches videos of cats and kids doing ridiculous things. When Coulson knocks on the doorframe she jumps in surprise; a part of her had forgotten where she was, she'd been savoring the solitude so much. There's not much of a chance to do that at St. Agnes. There's always someone hanging around, trying to peek over her shoulder or get her attention.

Coulson smiles apologetically. "Dinner is ready." He doesn't ask her if she's hungry or if she would like to come down and eat together. He just turns and disappears back down the hallway and Skye has the feeling that her presence at dinner isn't so much requested as expected.

Okay, whatever, she can roll with it. All of her new foster homes have the rules and traditions they expect to be followed and if Coulson wants to enjoy dinner with her sunny personality than how can she deny him?

Skye's stomach rumbles embarrassingly loud when she walks into the kitchen and smells spaghetti and garlic bread and there's even a salad sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. In a salad bowl. With actual wooden salad…implements. What kind of place is this?

"I wasn't sure what kinds of food you liked but I figured that everyone likes spaghetti, right?" Coulson says with a smile when he sees Skye walk into the kitchen. He pauses and then says, "right?" again with a hint of nervousness in his tone.

Skye purses her lips to hide the slight smile on her face. "Right." She's actually so hungry that she's pretty sure she could eat the entire pot of sauce and noodles by herself. But Coulson doesn't need to know that.

While she waits for Coulson to put the finishing touches on everything, Skye studies the pictures on the refrigerator. There are more of Coulson and his wife and some pictures of places and sunsets and snapshots of daily life.

Skye's gaze lingers on another picture of Coulson's wife with the giant stringed instrument. "That's my wife." Coulson says when he notices where her attention has been drawn. "She was cellist. As you can see." Again, when he smiles it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Oh." Skye clearly doesn't know a cello from a violin or a guitar or whatever. But good to know. "She was pretty." She adds lamely because she feels like she needs to say something about this dude's dead wife. Since he cooked her spaghetti and all.

Coulson nods and smiles sadly. "Yes, she was." Skye opens her mouth to say something more but he doesn't give her the chance. "Grab a plate and help yourself." His tone is friendly enough but Skye gets his meaning anyway: conversation over.

Skye doesn't even care about the huge heaping of noodles and sauce she drops onto her plate and she grabs three pieces of garlic bread and dumps half the salad into the bowl already waiting at the table. St. Agnes food definitely leaves a lot to be desired so you can hardly blame her for taking advantage of a home-cooked meal. Her last foster home was a take-out food and leftovers kind of place.

At one point, Skye catches Coulson looking at her with an amused expression on his face as she digs into her food and she blushes and tries to remind herself to eat like a normal person.

"I've already taken the necessary steps to get you enrolled in school." Coulson says after they've passed most of the meal in silence. "I hope you don't mind transferring. Your old school is a little bit out of the way."

Skye shrugs. "Whatever. School's school, right." She finishes her second piece of garlic bread.

Coulson mimics her shrug. "Your social worker mentioned problems with your attendance…" He trails off, looking at Skye expectantly.

"Oh. Yeah." Skye clears her throat, pursing her lips. "I've got a busy social schedule, you know." She hitches one shoulder in a shrug. It's not that she doesn't like school it's just…school is a weird limbo place for an orphan from St. Agnes.

Okay, let's be honest. She doesn't really like school. She's perfectly happy with her computer and the Internet.

This response doesn't seem to surprise Coulson. "Well, maybe you can put your social schedule on hold. At least until you graduate."

Skye thinks it's cute that he's making such long term plans for her.

"And who knows, maybe you'll actually enjoy going." Coulson continues, unaware of the thoughts running through Skye's mind at the moment. "The Belford School has a great reputation."

Skye's brow furrows. "The Belford School?" She repeats skeptically. "Sounds snobby."

Coulson arches his eyebrows, seemingly amused by her comment. "It happens to be the top private school in the state." He tells her. "So…yeah…a little snobby I guess."

Skye smirks and goes back to her dinner. Okay, she can work with snobby. She's pulled off everything else, why not pretend to be the spoiled little rich girl for a while? Might even be fun.

But when Skye goes back to her room and finds a message waiting for her from Ward, she can't help but rethink her whole approach to things. _Don't let them drag you around like that_, the message reads, _don't you want to be in control for once? Where are you_?

The words are so similar to the ones that Ward said to her when he was trying to convince her to run away from St. Agnes with him. Skye still isn't sure why she refused to leave with him that night; maybe there's a part of her that isn't nearly as brave as she likes to think that she is. She wonders if, given a second chance, she'd be able to follow him this time.

Ward is the only friend that she feels like she has in this entire God forsaken world. He's the only person who truly understands what it's like to be her, to not know who she is or where she comes from. Though, at least his parents named him before dropping him off at the orphanage, never to be seen again. He was the one who convinced her that she should name herself, though that didn't really do a lot of good in the long run seeing as everyone still calls her Margaret Mary. Except for Ward. And now Coulson. Ward has been gone for almost two years and Skye misses him like crazy; he's the only family she's ever had, the big brother who has always been there for her no matter what. She can't resist writing him back quickly with her address, even though she already has the feeling that nothing good could possibly come from this decision. But that's not exactly new. She makes bad decisions all the time.

That night when she finally goes to bed, Skye can't help but lock the bedroom door, just in case. Coulson seems like a decent guy. A standup guy in fact. But she knows from experience that looks can be deceiving. She spent six weeks in a foster home with other wayward children and a foster mother that was such a picture of calm and composure in front of everyone else because she liked to take her aggressions out on her wards. Skye got used to hiding the bruises long before anyone thought to ask questions. So, better safe than sorry anyway.

But there's not so much as a footstep outside her door and Skye falls asleep effortlessly.

* * *

She and Coulson don't talk much over the next few days but for some reason Skye would never catalog it as awkward. Coulson is far from overbearing but he makes his interest known. Skye still spends the majority of her time on her laptop, listening to music and surfing through the back channels that most people don't even know exist but she had no idea that Coulson noticed. Saturday he invites her to bring her laptop into his office while he does some work of his own and at first Skye resists the idea because two perfect strangers sharing the same small space is the definition of awkward to her. But there's something about Coulson that strikes her as sad and lonely and for some reason that matters to her and she doesn't really know why. So she carries her laptop into the office and sits down in the corner with her computer on her lap and Coulson sits at his desk and the sound of their respective keystrokes is actually soothing and nice, not that she'd ever admit it.

Finally Skye puts her computer aside and comes to stand behind Coulson, even though she used to hate it when people did that to her. "Whatcha working on?"

Coulson closes the document that he's been typing in, turning around to face her. "I'm a writer. If you could really call it that." He gives her a wry smile. "I like writing and apparently people like buying my books."

Skye smiles and nods. "It's a win-win, I guess." She points out. "What are your books about? Are they cheesy romance books?" She teases.

Coulson laughs like he's not entirely used to that particular sound coming from his vocal chords. "No, definitely not. They're more like…cheesy spy books." He admits.

"Like James Bond?" Skye arches an eyebrow. She definitely wouldn't peg Coulson as the type to write about action and adventure and espionage. She'd picture him as more the type to write about gardening or something equally mundane.

"No, not that exciting I'm afraid." Coulson replies. "So what has you so attached to your computer?" His eyes flick toward the laptop, waiting patiently for Skye's return.

Skye shrugs, toying absently with the ends of her hair. It's an annoying habit that she's never been able to shake, one she's done since she was a little kid and got nervous talking to adults who didn't work at St. Agnes. Even though Coulson is far from scary, apparently old habits die hard.

"Nothing really. Just Facebook and stuff." Skye tells him. She's found that it's usually better to keep her particular computer talents hidden. People get unnecessarily wary when they find out that she knows how to hack into practically any e-mail and bank account.

Coulson makes a noise like he doesn't quite believe her. "You know, Miss Martinez mentioned why you were asked to leave your old foster home."

Skye has discovered in the past three days that she really hates this particular talent of Coulson's. The fact that he makes a statement but manages to make it sound like a question even though it's obvious that he already knows the answer. Even still, he seems to have the ability to make her feel compelled to answer. "Yeah that was…a misunderstanding." She mutters.

Coulson gives her a skeptical look. "You didn't hack into your school's database and erase all the files?"

Skye purses her lips and shifts nervously. "I…might have done that." There's no point in dancing around the topic. The sooner Coulson realizes that she's a little shit, the sooner they can stop pretending and she can get back to St. Agnes. Before she actually breaks her cardinal rule and gets used to anything about this place.

But Coulson doesn't seem to find this particular admission all that surprising or worrisome. "My wife…she could barely figure out how to shop on Amazon." He remarks. "She could have benefited from your skills."

Skills. Huh. Skye has never heard anyone refer to her proclivity for finding ways to places that she isn't supposed to be with a few keystrokes as a skill before. Weird.

Skye takes a step away from Coulson, gesturing toward the door. "I'm just gonna go…make something to eat." She leaves the office before he can say anything more.

Weird. It's all just weird.

Skye doesn't feel any less weird when Coulson takes her shopping the following day for the things that she'll need for school. Thankfully the Belford School doesn't require uniforms but while Skye doesn't have to suffer that particular indecency, she does have to undergo something worse: having someone buy things for her. Coulson doesn't listen to her protests when she assures him that the ratty backpack she uses for her computer will be just fine for school or that all she really needs is a pencil and she'll be set. She finds herself with a new backpack and school supplies that she's never used in her life and he gives her his credit card and lets her go shopping for clothes on her own while he sits at Starbucks with his laptop. Skye feels like the card is burning a hole in her pocket as she tries to focus on browsing the racks. It would be embarrassingly easy to slip out of the store and take off before Coulson even realized that she was gone. She could probably get pretty far before he canceled the card; at least, she could be far enough away that she'd make it hard for anyone to track her down again. She could find Ward, she could be free of St. Agnes and all this up-and-down foster hell. Free.

Instead Skye just buys a few shirts and two pairs of jeans off the clearance rack. Apparently she still isn't as brave as she'd like to pretend that she is.

If Coulson ever doubted that she'd show back up at the Starbucks, he doesn't let on. Instead he just smiles that strangely enigmatic smile of his and that's that.

There's no message from Ward when they get home or when she checks her computer for the last time before going to bed. Skye tries not to be disappointed.

* * *

Coulson does most of the talking at the "welcome to our school, foster child, don't fuck it up" speech that Skye has gotten from countless principals throughout her life. Skye just taps her fingers on the arm of the hard wooden chair that is making her back hurt and thinks about this strange new institution of learning. From the outside, the Belford School looks a little bit like a castle; it's bigger than any school she's ever been in before and the place practically screams money. Skye doesn't want to think about how much Coulson is shelling out to carry on this weird dream of his to be a parent. She hopes that he'll get a refund when he sends her back to St. Agnes.

Even the principal's office is ridiculous. There are fancy statues and gilded picture frames on the shelves full of thick books with titles like _Teaching the Future_ and _Children: Our Passion_. Skye is going to stick out like a sore thumb in this place; maybe she should go for surly outcast instead of snotty rich girl. That might work better in her favor.

Finally Skye is given her class schedule and a map of the campus (campus, seriously. Who calls it that?) and Coulson wishes her luck on her first day and tells her that he'll see her this afternoon. Skye slings her fancy new backpack over her shoulder and looks at the map with her classes and routes highlighted for her. She walks out of the front office and looks down the hallways, which are already empty because the meeting carried into first period. She shakes her head and throws the map and schedule into the trashcan and turns toward the front door.

But for some reason, Skye stops before she can actually step outside. Coulson has been nothing but nice to her, quiet and understanding and he even told the principal that she preferred to be called Skye no matter what her stupid records said and damn it! This is why she doesn't do feelings and emotional shit! It just makes everything so much worse in the long run. Stupid Coulson, stupid St. Agnes, stupid foster system. Stupid Skye.

Skye groans and turns around, fishing her schedule and the map out of the trashcan. Coulson did buy her this nice new backpack, after all. She should at least try and make it through the first day.

Her first class is chemistry and thankfully the teacher doesn't make her stand in front of the class and introduce herself in some weird getting-to-know-you activity that some high school teachers seem to really enjoy. She just gestures for Skye to find a seat and the only open desk is in the second row behind a girl with an eager expression on her face and her mousey brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Skye just sits down and resists the urge to put her head down on her desk.

"Okay," the teacher claps her hands together as she directs the focus of the class away from Skye and back toward the lesson at hand, "who can refresh our memory about last Friday's lesson on ionic bonding?"

The girl in front of Skye shoots her hand up so fast that Skye actually feels her desk rattle. Skye can only see the back of her head but it's not hard to imagine the eagerness on her face. The teacher hesitates even though no one else has bothered to raise their hand and Skye is pretty sure that the girl is seconds away from having a meltdown.

"Okay, Jemma." The teacher points at her. "Briefly, please."

When the girl starts talking about ionic bonds (whatever the fuck), the only thing that Skye notices is that she has a particularly lilting British accent. Like, of course she does. Skye would end up in class with Hermione Granger.

At the end of class, Skye grabs her backpack and starts to move toward the door but Hermione, er Jemma, steps in front of her before she can get more than a few steps. Skye looks at her curiously, trying to figure out if she would get to the door if she just tried to walk around her.

"I thought you might like to borrow my notes and worksheets." Jemma says without preamble, a smile still stretched across her face. "Since this is your first day."

Skye shakes her head. "No, that's okay."

Jemma matches her step for step and Skye figures that she's not going to be able to shake her. At least the confused expression on her face is particularly entertaining. "But…don't you want to catch up? Aren't you worried about falling behind?"

This seems like something Jemma can't possibly wrap her head around. So Skye takes too much gratification in saying, "Nope" just so she can watch Jemma's expression fall. This time when Skye goes to leave, Jemma lets her.

* * *

When Coulson asks her about her first day of school, Skye doesn't get away with the typical teenage answer of "fine" and actually finds herself being forced to recount her day in excruciatingly boring detail. She leaves out the part about how she almost walked out the front door before first period or how she ate her lunch alone in the library so she didn't have to be that first day of school loser who was sitting by herself in the cafeteria. She also leaves out how it was embarrassingly easy to bypass the school's firewall systems so at least she was able to surf Reddit while she ate. See, silver linings.

The next day is much of the same, only without Skye's inner struggle about whether she should actually go to school or not. She just bites the bullet and walks into her first period class and Jemma smiles at her and waves like they're best buddies but at least she's not trying to push her notes and apparent academic success onto Skye anymore.

On Wednesday, when Skye walks into her first period class, she's surprised to find Jemma engaged in conversation with a lanky, curly-headed boy who is still clearly going through that awkward growing pains stage that has probably left him the butt of many jokes in gym class. Jemma has a big grin on her face as she's listening to this guy talk (seriously, he has an accent too? What kind of school is this?) and Skye wonders if he's her boyfriend and if they were bonded by their weird accents.

Okay, Jemma's accent isn't weird but it's not like you're going to get Skye to use the word "cute."

"Hello, Skye." Jemma says brightly as Skye walks past them on the way to her desk. She even gives her a chipper wave.

Skye raises her hand in what might pass as a wave. She's not sure if it's the fact that people are actually calling her Skye or the fact that Jemma is always so intent on greeting her that throws Skye for a loop.

It's nice, actually.

Being called Skye, that is. Not being greeted by Jemma.

Fine. That's nice too.

Skye puts her head down on her desk like she always does when she's waiting for class to start and listens as Jemma and her friend (boyfriend?) talk about auditions for some drama club production and when Jemma starts talking about someone named Ophelia she gets almost as excited as she does when she talks about covalent bonds and electrons.

When the warning bell rings, the guy gets this panicked look on his face before practically dashing out of the classroom and Skye has to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter. People who are always so desperate to adhere to the rules have always been a source of amusement for Skye. Maybe that's why she finds Jemma so intriguing; she's pretty much the definition of goody-two shoes, right down to the Hermione accent.

Later that night, after dinner with Coulson and watching some old black and white movie with him, Skye is finishing up her reading in _The Blithedale Romance _(really, she's just trying not to fall asleep) when she hears something knock against her window. She tilts her head slightly, listening. The house is silent around her, not a creature is stirring.

But as soon as Skye returns her attention to her reading, she hears the knocking again and when she turns her head toward the window, there's definitely a face staring back at her and it's a miracle that she doesn't scream and fall out of her desk chair. Her terror quickly turns to annoyance when she realizes who is staring back at her.

"Ward." Skye grumbles as she throws the window open, resisting the urge to give him a shove. "You just scared the shit out of me. What is your problem?"

Ward seems to find the whole thing hilarious, chuckling as he crawls through her window. Skye reaches out to steady him so he doesn't drop to the ground and alert Coulson to his presence. So far Coulson has proved to be a pretty laid back guy, but she doubts that he'd be too fond of strange guys climbing through her window. Even though Ward is hardly a stranger.

Ward. Skye forgets her annoyance and the fact that her heart is still pounding in her chest and throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Ward gives her a squeeze and ruffles her hair when they finally break the embrace. "Hey." He says casually like it hasn't been almost two years since they've last seen each other. "Sorry it took me so long. People are not as willing to pick up hitchhikers are they used to be. Not even devilishly good looking ones." He grins at his own joke.

Even though it really isn't far from the truth. Skye has always found Ward handsome, even though she's never seen him as anything more than her big brother and he's never acted like anything more than a protective older sibling. Sure there was that one time they kissed when she was thirteen because she was curious to see what all the fuss was about but she discovered a year later that she liked kissing Catherine, another girl at St. Agnes, a whole lot more.

"What are you doing here?" Skye questions. She knows there's a ridiculous grin on her face because she feels almost giddy. Having Ward here…it's practically perfect. Out of all the people who have come and gone throughout her life, Ward is the only one that she's missed. She's wondered dozens of times how her life would be different if she had gone with him on the night he'd run away from St. Agnes.

"I'm here to break you out, of course." Ward tells her. "Pack your bag, let's blow this joint."

Skye just stares at him. "What?"

"I thought you were tired of these foster prisons." Ward remarks with a shrug. "So I'm staging a jailbreak. You have no idea how much better it is to be free from all this crap. No one is shuffling me around from place to place anymore. I get to decide where I go and what I do. You'll love it, Skye. It's like being free."

Free. The magic word to all foster children everywhere, Skye assumes. Free from being moved around against her will, free from not being wanted, free to make her own decisions for once.

Skye suddenly has an extreme case of déjà vu, only now instead of standing in St. Agnes, they're standing in her bedroom at Coulson's house, having the same conversation.

Skye glances toward the door, thinking about what lays beyond. Coulson, no doubt sleeping soundly, unaware of what is going on just a few doors down. He's been nice to her, generous and understanding. How can she just…

But it hasn't even been a week. Everything always goes so well at the beginning. And then she's packing her suitcase again and being given some generic speech about not being a good fit. Like she's a pair of shoes that can just be returned to the store and exchanged for a bigger size.

She made the mistake of not going with Ward before but she's not going to do that again.

Skye spurs herself into action, grabbing her old ratty backpack and sliding her laptop and power cord inside before starting to add as many clothes as the bag can hold.

"This seems like a pretty nice place from the outside." Ward remarks as he watches Skye pack. "What do they do?"

"He's an author." Skye replies as she rolls up a pair of jeans to stuff into the bag. And though she doesn't know why, she adds, "She plays the cello."

Ward nods appreciatively. "An author, huh?" He purses his lips. "I bet there's probably a lot of shit in this house we could pawn for a few bucks."

Skye pauses in her packing, looking up at Ward. "What?"

"Yeah, I mean it's a lot harder to find work then you'd think." Ward tells her. "Every little bit helps."

Skye zips up her bag and slips it over her shoulder. "No." She says, surprised by the forcefulness of her own voice. Ward looks surprised as well, the expression on his face one of confusion. "I mean…he's really nice."

Ward laughs in her face and shakes his head and Skye feels her cheeks color in embarrassment. "No one is nice." He assures her. "Especially not these people."

"You don't even know him." Skye snaps, even though she knows that Ward is right. How could she forget that, how could she forget that the only person she can really trust in this world is herself. And Ward. "He is nice. He's sending me to this super fancy private school and everything."

This seems to catch Ward's attention and he arches an eyebrow. "Fancy private school?" He repeats with a growing smile. "Now that sounds promising."

Skye thinks about all the useless decorative stuff that adorns that hallways and the principal's office and how the principal's office is right next to the bookkeeper's and even though she's not entirely sure there's going to be much worth stealing, it's better than letting Ward entertain the idea of stealing from Coulson.

So Skye just nods and smiles.

And that's how she finds herself breaking into the Belford School.

In a way, it's just like old times, getting into all sorts of antics with Ward back at St. Agnes. Though making faces during Sunday service to see who would laugh first or stealing cookies from the kitchen is hardly the same thing as breaking into her new private school with the intention of stealing a bunch of shit.

They make it into the bookkeeper's office and are rifling through the drawers looking for the keys to the deposit box when Skye is hit in the face with a beam of light and can just barely make out the shape of someone standing in the doorway. When the figure lowers the flashlight, she can see his security uniform and the very pissed off expression on his face.

Clearly Skye was wrong about thinking she'd make it four weeks with Coulson. She barely made it one.

It's the cops who call Miss Martinez because hers is the first number listed in Skye's records, just above Mother Superior at St. Agnes. Skye figures that her social worker is the one who calls Coulson and when Skye sees him walking across the parking lot she feels her heart fall down to her feet. He doesn't look angry or annoyed to be up at one in the morning, he just looks a little bit sad and disappointed and that's somehow worse. Why is that worse?

Skye looks down at her feet instead of at Miss Martinez or Coulson. Ward is standing beside her, silent and stoic but she's certain that he's internally freaking out for a completely different reason. He's over eighteen now, so they can't force him back into the foster system but they can throw him in jail and she's pretty sure that won't mesh well with his philosophy of taking his destiny into his own hands. She feels like this is all her fault somehow, like she's to blame for the possibility of Ward going to jail and for Coulson being disappointed in her and for the mess that everything has become.

Miss Martinez finally walks over to her and shakes her head, her face puckered into an expression of anger and disappointment. She looks from Ward to the backpack at Skye's feet and just narrows her eyes. "Congratulations, you managed to go six days without proving what a disappointment you are." She hisses as she grabs Skye's arm, pulling her away from Ward. "The Sisters will be so pleased."

Skye doesn't bother to ask if she's going back to St. Agnes. It's pretty obvious at this point. She still can't bring herself to look at Coulson as one of the police officers takes the cuffs off her hands and surrenders her to Miss Martinez.

"Let's go." Miss Martinez pushes her toward the car that Skye had ridden in only days before. "It's going to be a long ride, Margaret Mary."

"Miss Martinez," Coulson's voice keeps Miss Martinez from saying anything more, "I think I'll take it from here." He lays a gentle hand on Skye's shoulder.

Miss Martinez looks surprised by she doesn't say anything, just wordlessly hands over Skye's bag and watches as Coulson leads Skye over to his car instead. Skye clinches her hands into fists as she follows Coulson, her nails pressing against her skin.

Coulson doesn't say anything as they pull away from the Belford School, keeping his gaze fixed on the empty road ahead of them. For the first time, it's Skye who breaks the silence. "You're not sending me back?" Her voice is small and childlike to her own ears.

Coulson looks over at her, his brow knitting. "What?"

Skye swallows, toying with the ends of her hair. "I…I mean…the last family…" They hadn't even bothered to say goodbye, just sent her stuff back with Miss Martinez after they received word of her expulsion for hacking into the school's computer system.

Coulson's expression softens and he just shakes his head. "No."

Skye clinches her jaw so tightly that it starts to ache but at least she stops her tears from falling.

**tbc **


	2. Act Two

**A.N.: **You guys are all seriously amazing. Thank you so much for the people who took the time to send me such wonderful reviews; your well-thought out comments and feedback are what help me become a better writer so I really appreciate it! And I can't believe how many people added this story to the favorites or followed it. You guys rock! Thanks so much, I hope you continue to enjoy!

**II. **

Skye spends a restless night tossing and turning and thinking about Ward and Coulson and everything that transpired only hours before even though it feels like a lifetime. Her body is exhausted but her brain just won't stop and by the time the sky starts to lighten, she's already up and dressed and in the kitchen putting her marginal culinary skills to the test.

Coulson looks impressed when he comes downstairs to find the kitchen table loaded with plates of pancakes and waffles and bacon and poached eggs. Skye has just started a pot of coffee when she hears him enter the kitchen and she tenses, preparing herself for a lecture or yelling or more expressions of disappointment.

But Coulson just goes to sit at the table, unfolding a napkin and placing it in his lap. "This is quite the spread." He remarks, as though he didn't just catch her in the process of running away and breaking into her fancy private school only hours before.

Skye forces a smile on her face. "Yeah…it's kind of a 'thanks for letting me off the hook' breakfast."

Coulson laughs. "Oh, I'm not letting you off the hook." He assures her as he reaches for a waffle and some of the bacon.

Skye really isn't sure how to respond to that somehow ominous statement.

"I didn't know that you liked to cook." Coulson says when Skye finally convinces herself that it's safe to go sit at the table.

A part of Skye wishes that he would yell at her or punish her or even throw his plate across the kitchen. Just so they can get it over with. This whole normalcy, calm-voiced thing is giving her palpitations.

Skye shrugs. "I really don't." She tells him. "I got stuck with kitchen duty a lot at St. Agnes."

Skye hopes that the words _thanks for not sending me back there_ are obvious to Coulson, even though she can't bring herself to say them out loud.

After a few minutes of picking at the food on her plate, Skye sighs and looks over at Coulson. "So what happens next?"

Coulson takes a sip of coffee, putting off his answer. Skye fidgets in her seat impatiently. "I've already spoken with Principal Hand." He tells her. "She wants to meet with us this afternoon. I'm hoping that she won't press charges and will just deal with the matter internally."

That sounds a bit frightening. But so does the phrase "press charges." Skye nods, tapping her fork against the side of her plate. "And what about Ward?" She forces herself to ask.

"That all depends on whether Principal Hand decides to prosecute." Coulson tells Skye. "I do know that they arrested him last night, but I don't know much more than that. I'm sorry."

Skye purses her lips and drops her eyes, staring at her marred breakfast food. Ward. In jail. Her fault.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Coulson questions and Skye jerks her head up to look at him.

"No." Skye tells him, scoffing slightly at the idea and rolling her eyes.

Coulson narrows his eyes slightly. "Skye, this isn't going to work. I want to help you, I like having you here. But we need to trust each other and I'm going to need you to be truthful with me."

Skye sighs, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "He's not my boyfriend." She says again. "He's just…he's my best friend." She looks at Coulson. "And that's the truth."

This time Coulson seems satisfied with her response. "Were you going to run away last night?"

Even though Skye feels like it's a perfectly natural question, it still seems to come out of left field and feels like a punch to the chest. Skye feels her cheeks burn with shame and she hopes that Coulson can't tell. She figures that her lack of a response is answer enough.

Coulson nods and gets to his feet, pushing his chair back and carrying his plate over to the sink. He starts to leave before pausing and turning back toward Skye. "If you're not happy here, I understand. I would never want you to stay here against your will." He tells her and Skye keeps staring down at her food. "I want you to want to be here."

Skye finds herself clinching her jaw again, her hands balled tightly into fists. Coulson waits a moment longer before leaving the kitchen and Skye exhales a breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

Just to give herself something to do, Skye goes through the motions of putting the leftover food into Tupperware containers and cleaning all the dishes and wiping down the counters. She actually finds herself wishing that she was going to school, simply so she wouldn't have to stand around and listen to the silent house around her. She knows that Coulson is upstairs but she might as well be alone.

Skye finally leaves the kitchen and heads toward her room, pausing before she gets to the door. The door to Coulson's office is open and she can hear the sound of him clicking away on the keys.

Before she can stop herself, Skye walks down the hallway and knocks on the door frame. Coulson turns around and looks at her expectantly, his expression not entirely welcoming or entirely condemning.

Skye takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "I do want to be here." She says quickly, forcing the words out of her mouth. "I just…every time I want something it never happens and that just makes it so much harder because I…it's hard to want something and have it taken away." She dares to open her eyes, looking at Coulson hesitantly. "I do want to be here." She says it again, softer this time, testing the words and the idea.

The silence that stretches between them is almost enough to make Skye crazy and Coulson's face is impossible to read. But finally he nods and, if she's not mistaken, there's the slightest hint of a smile on his face. "Okay then." He says. "I guess that settles it."

Skye feels a little bit of the weight in her chest dissipate. It's not much, but it's a start.

* * *

It's pretty obvious that Principal Hand is torn between wanting to kick Skye out on her ass and continuing to accept the money that comes from keeping her enrolled in the Belford School. Skye just does a lot of "yes ma'am"ing and "no ma'am"ing while Coulson attempts to charm the principal into not only dropping any charges against her and Ward but keeping her enrolled as a student.

"She's just a kid," Coulson says as though all kids have gotten caught breaking and entering at one point, "you have kids of your own. I'm sure you understand."

Hand just scoffs and shakes her head. "My sons have never broken a few windows and tried to steal money from the bookkeepers office."

"I'll pay to replace the windows. And Skye will even fix them if you want." Coulson offers and Skye figures it's not the best time to point out that she knows absolutely zero about putting in windows.

But Hand still doesn't look convinced. She's looking at Skye like she's some sort of master criminal and Skye has honestly seen that look several times before so she tries not to let it bother her. "Kids like that…they're not trustworthy." She says this to Coulson like Skye isn't sitting right there in the room. "Kids in the system, they've got deep-seeded issues that you just can't get rid of."

Skye feels her face grow hot, all the way up to the tips of her ears.

"With all due respect, ma'am," Coulson's words are friendly but his tone is far from it, "I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself." Hand looks surprised but wisely snaps her mouth shut. "You want to punish her, I get that. But you know what I think would be better? Making sure she doesn't do anything like that again."

Hand arches an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, would I do that?" There's a hint of sarcasm in her tone, no doubt payback for the tone that Coulson took with her only seconds before.

"Make her get involved." Coulson looks over at Skye. "Put her in an afterschool activity, make her feel like she's a part of something." He gives Skye a faint smile before looking back at Hand. "If she feels like a part of this school, she probably won't break so many windows."

There's a part of Skye that things this sounds like absolute torture. There's another part of Skye that knows that she needs to keep her mouth shut.

Hand sighs and leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers as she looks at Skye. Finally she just shakes her head. "Fall sports have already started, Mr. Coulson. I'm not sure…" She pauses, seeming to reconsider. "Drama club _is_ putting on a production of _Hamlet_…"

It's clear from her tone that she believes that is an adequate form of punishment.

Finally, something she and Skye can agree on.

* * *

The next day at school, Skye has gone from "under the radar" to "more interesting to gossip about than this weekend's parties." She does not like this change. She much prefers being Under the Radar Skye as opposed to Criminal Mastermind Skye.

Apparently Principal Hand's oldest son is a dick and overheard his mother talking about the whole ordeal with Skye and Ward breaking into the school and spread the story around like wildfire. The student body's interest in the story has yet to diminish, even twenty-four hours later.

Skye ignores the looks and whispers as she walks down the hallway from her locker to her first period class. Seriously, she's not even that interesting. She broke a few windows and failed to actually get her hands on anything worth stealing. By the way people are talking, you'd think she was using the science equipment to make meth, which she then sold out of the yearbook offices.

Thankfully Skye is used to ignoring the unwanted attentions and comments of her classmates. She tries to content herself with the knowledge that she's not back in St. Agnes or kicked out of school (which doesn't really seem all that great right now) and that Ward isn't going to serve time because of her. You know, silver-linings and all.

It's almost a relief to be out of the hallways and in her first period class, even though she hates chemistry. At least she's out of most of the public eye, though a few students stare at her as she walks in.

Jemma smiles at her cheerfully and when Skye sits down in her desk, Jemma swivels around in her own seat to face her. "Hello Skye." She says, just as she always does.

Skye offers her a tight smile, bracing herself for Jemma's inquires about the stories that have been going around the school.

"Would you like to borrow my notes from yesterday?" Jemma questions instead. "I was even more dedicated in my note taking when I noticed that you were absent."

Skye just stares at her for a moment. Seriously, is this girl even real? Because Skye has probably said no more than five words to her since they met four days ago and she wouldn't even call those few words cordial but Jemma is taking notes for her and still smiling like she doesn't have a care in the world.

Jemma shifts in her seat, no doubt made uncomfortable by Skye's silence. When she starts to turn around again, Skye forces herself to speak. "Yeah. Sure." She says. "That's really nice."

Jemma beams like Skye just told her she'd won prom queen or something. Or maybe some sort of Nobel Prize would be more up her alley. She grabs her binder, which is about three times as thick as any binder Skye has ever seen and starts flipping through the prolific amount of papers. "We were discussing oxidation numbers." Jemma tells Skye, like that somehow will make sense to her. "And Mrs. Montgomery said we'll be starting experiments on Monday, isn't that exciting?"

Skye just nods because knows that's the answer that Jemma wants. And she figures that it wouldn't hurt to give her what she wants, seeing as she's letting Skye copy her notes and everything.

Coulson doesn't so much ask Skye to run errands with him that weekend as he insists that she tag along. Skye doesn't mind as much as she might want people to believe, even if she's never set foot in a gardening store before in her life. Skye can't tell if Coulson is still punishing her for attempting to run away and break into the Belford School or if he's just trying to encourage some togetherness between foster parent and child but she just trails after him as he picks out plants and looks a soil for the flower beds.

Skye leaves a message for Ward on their dummy site (_I'm so sorry about how everything happened, please let me know you're okay_) and spends most of the weekend fidgeting around waiting for a response. Even though she finally gets one Sunday night (_Not your fault, Skye, don't worry about it_) she doesn't feel much better. Skye wishes that she could talk to Ward face to face, to know what he was planning on doing or where he is. But maybe it's for the best that he stays away from her. Clearly she's not anyone's good luck charm.

On Monday, experiments in chemistry class aren't the only thing that Skye has to look forward to. In the sense of, you know, not really looking forward to it at all. Auditions for _Hamlet_ are directly after school and even though Skye can think of dozens of things that she'd rather be doing, disappointing Coulson or getting sent back to St. Agnes aren't on that list so she heads directly to the theatre after her fourth period.

Skye has never been one for extracurricular activities. Not even "computer club" held any interest for her, mainly because most of the people at said club knew as much about computers as a grade school kid. Not exactly Skye's style. But here she is, setting foot in a drama classroom for the first time in her life.

The drama department and classes have their own building toward the back of the Belford campus and the space is big enough that there's plenty of room for a large stage and space to set up chairs for the parents and faulty who get roped into attending the plays. The walls and floor are painted black and the room is sparsely decorated, though the halls leading to the space are covered with framed flyers advertising past shows.

Sign-ups for the auditions were apparently earlier in the month but Principal Hand assured her than an "exception" would be made in her case, she just needed to check in with Miss May, the drama instructor, when she arrived at the auditions. Of course, there was an implied _if_ in Hand's tone that Skye definitely didn't miss. She got the feeling that she wouldn't be all that broken up if Skye failed to show up to audition because it would give her a reason to give Skye the boot. Proving Hand wrong just might be some of Skye's motivation for walking into the performance space.

The theatre is buzzing with voices and pulsing with excitement. There are at least two dozen kids hanging around chatting with each other or standing off the side and muttering lines under their breath. Two guys are galloping around on stage, swinging at each other with plastic swords and shouting and laughing. A few of the students are lounging about in the folding chairs that have been set up, not interested in practicing or taking part in the hullabaloo.

Skye toys with her hair as she scans the room, looking for Miss May. She doesn't know what the woman looks like, but the only adult in a room of chaos can't be all that hard to spot. Finally Skye sees her across the room; her expression is stony and unreadable as she stands back with her arms crossed over her chest, watching everything going on around her. She looks like the type of person who puts up with zero bullshit, like Sister McKenna at St. Agnes and maybe that's the reason that Skye finds her intimidating even from across the other side of the room.

"Miss May?" Skye says after she's forced herself to walk across the room to address the woman. "I'm Skye…Principal Hand told me to come by for auditions-"

May turns to look at her, giving her the once over with a flick of her eyes. "Oh, yes." She says with a nod. "The delinquent."

It's weird when May says it because it sounds like a statement of fact rather than an insult. Skye doesn't know what to say to that, so she just shifts, readjusting the strap on her backpack.

May looks at her for a moment longer before picking up a piece of paper from the chair to her right and handing it over to Skye. "This is the monologue you'll be auditioning with." She tells her. "Read it over a few times."

Skye rolls the paper up nervously, tapping it against her thigh. "Actually…I was wondering if I could do some like behind the scenes stuff? Like moving sets or…lights or…behind the scenes things?"

May quirks an eyebrow. "Have you ever worked with sets and equipment before?"

Skye shakes her head. "No. But I've also never acted before either so…"

"Bad acting I can work with." May remarks. "But if you don't know your way backstage, you might get hurt. I can't work with that." She takes the paper out of Skye's hand and unrolls it, handing it back to her. "I'll add your name to the list."

Skye just gives her a salute with the monologue before turning on her heel and heading toward the row of chairs. Great. How, exactly, has this become her life?

"Skye!" A voice calls out cheerfully and she turns around, surprised. Jemma is sitting in one of the seats, waving at her half-frantically with a huge grin on her face. Her (boy?)friend is sitting next to her, looking at Skye curiously. When Jemma sees that she has Skye's attention, she motions for her to come sit in one of the empty seats beside her.

Skye can't think of a reason why she shouldn't, so she walks over to where Jemma is sitting. Skye drops her backpack at her feet as she sits down; she shifts in her seat, unsure of what to do or say. Socialization isn't her strong point. Clearly.

"I didn't know you were interested in acting." Jemma says, clearly unbothered by Skye's discomfort and uncertainty. "What part are you hoping for?"

"Uh…" Skye taps the monologue against her knee, glancing around at the students waiting for the auditions to start. They all want to be here and she's just waiting for it all to end. She looks back at Jemma, who is still smiling brightly. "I…I'm not sure."

The only thing Skye really knows about _Hamlet_ comes from watching _The Lion King_ a few times at St. Agnes, even though she always thought that showing that movie was in poor taste given the fact that everyone there was an orphan and watching a father get trampled by African cows or whatever didn't seem all that sensitive. But whatever. She doubts that having seen _The Lion King_ a handful of times growing up is going to help in her _Hamlet_ audition.

The night before, Coulson had handed her a copy of Shakespeare's collected works, a leftover tome from his wife's college years. The book had been massive and the print tiny and when Skye had tried to start reading over the lines everything had blurred together and became too confusing. She doesn't like confusing, it makes her feel stupid. And who likes feeling stupid?

Jemma's friend looks at Skye curiously. "You don't know?" He repeats, his accent even thicker than Jemma's.

Skye hums instead of answering but Jemma is there to save the day. "Isn't this exciting?" She questions, looking from Skye to her friend and back again. "All the excitement over auditions." She leans closer to Skye. "I'm hoping for the role of Ophelia." She says, conspiratorially.

Skye nods and hopes the smile on her face seems genuine. Ophelia…she didn't get that far in the play.

"And Fitz is hoping for Hamlet." Jemma continues, gesturing to the boy beside her. "He's really quite good."

"Hamlet has over one thousand lines." Fitz chimes in, as though Skye will find this particular bit of information interesting.

Skye just nods, arching her eyebrows. "Well, better you than me, I guess." She mutters. She taps the rolled up paper on her knee and then looks back at Jemma. "Is there a character that has like five lines? That's who I want to be."

Jemma laughs at her like she thinks Skye has made some kind of witty joke and it's kinda nice so Skye doesn't bother to tell her that she was serious.

Skye looks over the piece of paper that May gave her and it looks more like a tongue twister than something she should actually be able to read out loud. She remembers working her way through _Romeo and Juliet_ with the rest of her freshman English class and that seemed bad enough. Eventually their teacher just gave up and let them watch the movie with that _Titanic _guy in it.

She reads over the lines a few times, puzzling over the meaning as she runs them through her mind. Skye looks at Jemma out of the corner of her eye; the other girl seems to be doing the same thing, her lips moving quickly, silently, as her eyes fly across the page. When she notices Skye looking, she glances up and smiles, looking somehow shy.

"You'd think I'd know it by now." Jemma remarks. "I've been listening to Fitz go over these lines for the past week." She shrugs. "I guess I'm just getting a bit nervous."

"No need to be nervous." Fitz pats Jemma on the back and the gesture seems more brotherly than boyfriendly and why is Skye even noticing things like that?

"Yeah, at least this stuff probably makes sense to you." Skye points out. "I have no idea what he's even talking about…"

Fitz looks at her incredulously and Skye is used to seeing that expression on people's faces. It's the _how dare you _not_ know what I'm talking about_ look. But she figures that she wears it on her own face whenever people ask her basic computer questions so it evens out.

Jemma elbows him in the side and Fitz winces and rubs his ribs. "You see, Hamlet is upset at his mother." Jemma explains, pointing to the words on the page. "His mother married his uncle shortly after his father died. He's just upset because he feels like he can't depend on his mother or his uncle for that matter."

Skye makes a thoughtful noise, looking back at the words on the page. Huh. Family you can't depend on? Definitely something that she can relate to.

Finally May calls everyone to order and one scalding look sends the guys horsing around on stage running for cover. It's pretty obvious to Skye that everyone in the room respects May or is at least terrified of her because no one talks or pulls out a phone while she gives a brief speech about beginning a new production and wishing everyone luck.

May starts the auditions without further ado, calling each person up by name to read through the monologue that they were given. Some people are way too dramatic and even Skye considers it painful to watch and she doesn't know her stage right from her left. A few of the people who audition aren't so horrible and Skye might be a little biased, but she feels like Jemma really nails the audition and Fitz isn't so bad either. She figures that their crazy Shakespeare accents probably help them really sell the parts.

Skye feels a little bit like she's going to throw up when May finally calls her name. Last, of course. Jemma gives her a smile and a thumbs-up as Skye forces herself out of her seat and takes the agonizing walk toward the stage. She does not want to do this. She feels like her heart is going to shoot out of her chest at any minute and her vision is getting fuzzy around the edges. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

Skye stands frozen on the stage, feeling like a deer in the headlights as she looks down at all the faces looking back up at her. This is cruel and unusual punishment. Really.

"Take your time, we've got all day!" Calls one of the guys who had been rough-housing with the swords but one look from May has him slinking down low in his seat.

Skye swallows and looks down at the words on the page. She thinks about what Jemma said, how Hamlet is just pissed at his parents because they're not trustworthy and even though she never knew her own parents, she feels like there's nothing less trustworthy than leaving your infant daughter alone in a hospital nursery hours after she was born.

Since she was little, she's played dozens of parts, adapting to her surroundings and her new homes, changing herself to become the person that she thought someone would ask to stay. At least this is a part she doesn't feel like she has to fake.

Skye is pretty sure that she's not deserving of any Academy Awards at the end of her audition but at least she was able to speak the words with something resembling human emotion and she didn't throw up or pass out so she considers it a win. And hopefully she was horrible enough that May will cast her as someone who doesn't speak. Or maybe she can play a tree. There are trees in this play, right?

"That was marvelous, Skye." Jemma says as soon as Skye returns to her seat. As usual, she's got a huge grin on her face as she speaks.

Skye scoffs and shakes her head. "Yeah right." She mutters. "But thanks."

May dismisses them after promising to have the cast list up after school on Wednesday and assuring them that if anyone asks her about it before after school on Wednesday they won't be getting a part.

Sure, Skye thinks about asking May about the cast list tomorrow in between classes. But she doesn't. And that has to count for something, right?

* * *

Tuesday, Skye is tapping her foot impatiently as she waits in what seems like an impossibly long line to pay her for her lunch so she can return to her refuge in the library when she feels someone tap on her shoulder and finds Jemma standing beside her. Jemma is holding a brown paper bag in her hands (seriously, just like _Leave it to Beaver_ or something; Skye is surprised that it doesn't have her name on it) which probably explains how she was able to make her way through the line without complaints from the other students.

"I noticed that you never seem to eat in the cafeteria." Jemma says as she follows Skye to the cashier. "Would you like to eat lunch with Fitz and I?"

Skye wordlessly punches in her student ID number so she can pay for her slice of pizza and "fresh" fruit, acutely aware of Jemma waiting expectantly. Finally, Skye sighs and shakes her head. "No, thanks."

You see, Jemma is probably the nicest person that she's ever met in her life. The type of person who probably wouldn't care that she's a foster kid that nobody wants or that she broke into the school or spends her time on the computer causing trouble and writing code. The type of person who doesn't care that Skye doesn't know what an ionic bond is or can't understand Shakespeare half the time. The kind of person that Skye could consider a friend.

Bad news.

The only thing that Skye really knows about friends is that it's easy to lose them. Even Ward, the one person she thought she'd never lose, is slipping away from her and it hurts. A lot. Why would anyone willingly go through that?

Jemma's face falls and Skye feels like the worst person alive because it's only when Jemma isn't smiling that you realize that she has a really great smile and should be happy all the time.

Skye moves to step past Jemma but Jemma matches her motion and is blocking her path once more. There's a stubborn expression on her face, like she's ready to speak her mind whether Skye likes it or not. "Look, I…I know we're not the coolest people to sit with or what have you but I think we…" Some of the bravado that colored her face and tone seconds earlier starts to disappear and Jemma seems almost to deflate slightly. "We're not so bad." Jemma finishes, clearly at a loss of something else to say.

Jemma turns on her heel and walks across the cafeteria, no doubt in the direction of the table that she shares with Fitz. Skye just watches her go because it's easier than telling her the truth about why she couldn't accept her invitation.

It's the whole hoping for something and then having it taken away thing. She's already pushing her luck with Coulson, she can't afford to extend herself into the realm of friendships and relationships as well.

Something tells her that Jemma wouldn't care about that either. That she would understand and manage to bust down Skye's reserves anyway.

And that's why Skye walks out of the cafeteria without a backward glance.

**tbc. **


	3. Act Three

**A.N: **You guys! You're so great! Thank you so much for all your thoughts, reviews and sweet comments. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

**III.**

Skye doesn't check the cast list that's hanging up outside May's office until Thursday morning. It's not because she doesn't care (because she's a touch bit curious, whether she wants to admit it or not) but because she isn't willing to chance her luck with Jemma twice in one day. And no, she won't admit that either. Chemistry class was bad enough, considering the fact that Jemma didn't barrage Skye with her usual greeting and smile when she walked into the classroom and no, she won't admit that _that_ bothered her either, but thanks for asking. Avoiding Jemma (and Fitz for that matter) seems like a good idea.

Of course, that will probably be pretty difficult considering the fact that they're both going to be spending the next two months together thanks to Principal Hand and some asshole named Shakespeare. Skye runs her finger down the names of her classmates, smiling when she sees Jemma's listed next to _Ophelia_ and Fitz beside _Hamlet_. She wishes that she had been there to see Jemma's reaction to the casting and…see, this is why she doesn't make friends. Stupid human emotions.

Her own name is listed to some character named _Horatio_, who Skye is pretty sure was a _guy_ when Shakespeare first penned the play. She doesn't think she looks masculine…and just how many lines does this Horatio guy have anyway? This already feels like it's going to be a very bad idea.

When Skye walks into chemistry class, she's still dwelling over May's casting choices and bumps right into the back of someone standing near the door. "Oh, sorry." She says and when she looks up she realizes that she's knocked into Fitz. Of course.

Fitz gives her a frosty glare and Skye is certain that Jemma told him all about the lunchtime snafu from the other day. Skye feels like the smart thing would be to not press her luck, so she just steps around Fitz and retreats to her desk, keeping her head down and ignoring Jemma only centimeters away.

When Fitz finally leaves, only a handful of seconds pass before Jemma is turning around in her desk. "Congratulations on your role, Skye." She says and Skye envious her accent because it makes her sound so aloof and distant. It's effortless, really. "Horatio is a very important character."

Skye grimaces. "So he has a lot of lines, right?"

Jemma looks like she wants to smile or offer some sort of comforting words but she seems to catch herself before she can actually say anything. Instead she just nods and turns around in her seat, flipping through the pages in her textbook.

"Congrats on your part, too." Skye adds because for some reason she can't remember why it's a bad idea to talk to Jemma or why it's a bad idea to want to be her friend. "Ophelia, right? That's who you wanted."

Now Jemma can't keep the smile off her face. "Yes, I am quite pleased." She admits. "She has some rather taxing scenes, though. I should start practicing even before we officially begin rehearsals." Skye has a feeling this isn't the first time that Jemma has had this idea.

"I'm sure you'll do great." Skye tells her and for a minute she thinks that maybe it's not such a bad idea to have someone to sit with at lunch and talk to in between classes.

But Skye honestly can't see her as the type of person who goes over to someone's house for a sleepover or who has someone over for a study session. She's hardly the type of person that someone like Jemma should have as a friend.

So Skye just puts her head down on her desk before the conversation can continue any farther and it's better this way because she can't see the look of disappointment on Jemma's face.

* * *

"It's official," Skye says when she walks through the front door that afternoon, "I'm an actor." She does a mock bow as she slips off her backpack and drops it to her feet.

Coulson sets aside the book that he was reading when Skye walked in and gives her a smile. "Congratulations." He says warmly, as though she wasn't forced into auditioning for the school play. As though he didn't just spend an impressive amount of money on new window panes. "And who will you be playing? Hamlet?" He teases with a smile.

Skye laughs. "Yeah right." She sits down in the arm chair across from the couch, kicking off her boots and feeling herself start to relax. It's funny how that happens, how she has started to relax in this place even though it's someone else's home and she's invading someone else's space whenever she leaves behind her shoes or a book or pencil. "I'm playing Horatio." She looks at Coulson questioningly. "Do you know him?"

Coulson nods, smiling. "That's kind of a big role." He tells her. "You must have done better in your audition than you thought."

"I know right!" Skye wrinkles her nose. "I really just wanted to be a tree."

"I did a little bit of acting when I was in college." Coulson remarks and Skye looks at him with renewed attention. "Just little things here and there."

That's how they end up on the floor in Coulson's office, pouring over boxes filled with old pictures. There are easily a half dozen shoe boxes spread out of before them, each so loaded with pictures that the tops barely fit on them. Skye flips through some of the pictures, smiling and interested in spite of herself.

"This is golden." She tells Coulson, holding up a picture of him dressed in what looks like a toga fashioned out of a bed sheet. "I think we need to frame this and add it to the collection downstairs."

Coulson gives her a _not gonna happen _look but there's a wistful smile on his face. "Mia loved taking pictures." He tells Skye. "I think she took every single one of these." He spreads some of the pictures out between them, his hand hovering over one of himself and Mia. "Except for ones of us together. She was always getting strangers to take pictures of us."

Skye looks away from Coulson because the naked emotion on his face makes her feel as though she's interrupting a personal moment. She picks up a picture at random, desperate for the distraction. It happens to be one of Coulson and a little girl who looks like she's maybe two or three. "Who's this?" She holds the picture up for him to see.

The smile on Coulson's face is a little forced. "Oh, my niece. My brother's youngest daughter." He tells her. "I haven't seen them in awhile." He shrugs. "Mia was the one who was always adamant about visiting. She loved the kids."

The question leaves Skye's mouth before she can convince herself just to shut up: "How come you didn't want to adopt a baby?"

Skye regrets the words as soon as they hang in the air between them but of course there's no going back now. Coulson's fake smile fades and she's left looking at that naked sadness on his face once more.

"I'm sure you have some homework you could be working on." Coulson says after a moment of silence, looking down at the pictures spread out before them.

Skye gets up quickly and leaves the office, heading back downstairs. She's had enough experience with people to know when she's being dismissed and she's had enough experience with foster parents to know that it's best not to overstay her welcome in those situations.

When Coulson finally comes back downstairs, he's like his usual self once more. Or, at least, he cares more about Skye thinking that he's back to his usual self. But Skye can't forget the expression on his face or the sadness that always lingers in his eyes, even when she thinks that he's genuinely happy. And she can't help but think that he might know a little bit more about hoping for something and having it taken away than she gave him credit for.

* * *

And maybe that's the reason that Skye finds herself scanning the cafeteria the following day for the table where Jemma and Fitz are sitting. Because Coulson knows what it's like to have something taken away and she really wants to know if he's stopped hoping for things but she doesn't feel like she has the right to ask him until she can tell him that she hasn't stopped hoping either. And Skye figures that she'll probably regret hoping and trying and wanting in another month or two when things don't work out and she's going back to St. Agnes but for now she's walking across the cafeteria toward the table.

Fitz and Jemma are sitting by themselves in a circular table that could easily fit six but they don't seem self-conscious about the extra space. They have their lunches and text books spread out in front of them and are in the middle of a conversation about one of their instructors when Skye walks up and she stands there for a minute without being acknowledged but she can't tell if it's because they're ignoring her or if they're so invested in what they're talking about that they honestly don't notice her.

Skye clears her throat and both Jemma and Fitz look up in unison and it's weird how in sync they are and Skye is pretty sure that Fitz is Jemma's boyfriend. And why does she care?

"Hi." Skye says tentatively. They look at her and she looks at them and Skye rocks back onto the balls of her feet awkwardly. "Uh…is that seat taken?" She points to the chair beside Jemma.

Fitz says "yes" at the same time that Jemma says "no, not at all" and moves to push the chair out for Skye. Jemma looks over her shoulder at Fitz and they both glare at each other, obviously displeased with the others response.

But Skye decides that she's not going to debate any longer and sits down next to Jemma before she can talk herself out of it.

They don't talk much, or rather, Skye doesn't do much talking. She just listens as Jemma and Fitz argue about the possible success of some idea of Fitz's and Skye finds her eyes straying over to Jemma throughout most of the discussion. Jemma's eyes are bright and she talks a lot with her hands; Skye likes the way that she always seems to get animated when she gets worked up about something. Skye hasn't been around many people who let themselves be unapologetically passionate about something. It's a nice change.

When Skye gets home that afternoon, she sends Ward a lengthy message apologizing once again for the way things happened last week but making sure to tell him how important he is to her. She doesn't know if she's ever mentioned all of those things to him before, so she figures that while she's on a roll with doing things that she doesn't normally do that she might as well include him in there too.

* * *

Skye is sitting on the porch swing with _The Collected Works of Shakespeare _spread open in her lap. She's absently pushing against the porch with her toes so the swing shifts back and forth as she mumbles the lines out loud, trying to get a feel for them before she actually tries to tackle the task of committing them to memory. "_Our last king, whose image even now appear'd to us, was, as you know, by Fortinbras_-" Skye pauses, squinting at the page. "Fortinbras?"

"It's a last name." Coulson chimes in from the flower beds that ring the front of the porch.

Skye had almost forgotten he was there because they'd both been operating in a companionable silence. It's nice to have a foster parent who doesn't think she exists for the sole purpose of improving his or her life and/or marriage or entertaining the other children around the house. Coulson just lets her do her own thing but he never seems like he's too busy or preoccupied to talk to her whenever Skye is in the mood for conversation.

Skye sighs and puts down the book. "I'm never going to be able to remember all of these lines." She moans, burying her face in her hands. "Rehearsals start on Monday and I'm going to be a mess."

"No you aren't." Coulson assures her, still out of sight. "Your instructor wouldn't have cast you as that part if she didn't think you were capable."

Skye scoffs. "Well, she doesn't really know me…" She's not capable of much other than pissing people off and making a mess of things.

"Skye, you can do this if you put your mind to it." Coulson says and Skye feels somehow embarrassed. "You're a very smart and capable girl and-"

"So whatcha planting?" Skye interrupts, getting off the swing and coming to kneel down beside Coulson. She'd much rather talk about plants than her "attributes," of which there aren't many.

Coulson arches an eyebrow but he doesn't bother to comment on the very obvious subject change. "Aren't there friends you could be spending time with? Instead of learning how to garden?" He questions, smirking at her.

"Sounds like you're trying to get rid of me." Skye puts her hand over her heart. "I'm hurt, Coulson. Deeply."

Laughing, Coulson just shakes his head. "Not trying to get rid of you." He tells her. "I'm just sure that you'd rather spend your weekends hanging out with people your own age. I get it. I was young once too."

Skye gives him a teasingly skeptical look and Coulson just rolls his eyes. "Well, you don't have to worry, C-Man." Skye remarks and Coulson makes a face. "No friends to speak of."

"Is that for lack of trying or…?" Coulson trails off, looking at her expectantly. "And never call me that again."

Skye just shrugs, turning her attention toward the plants still waiting in their plastic pots. She runs her fingers gently along the petals of one particularly vibrant flower. "It's just complicated." She mumbles finally.

Coulson nods and Skye feels like he understands more than he's letting on. "You know, one thing I've learned about people is that they might not disappoint you as much as you think they will." He remarks. "Sometimes people don't let you down."

Skye looks up at him and she can't figure out if he's talking about her potential friends or himself.

* * *

Monday after school, Skye finds herself back in the theatre, only this time she's even more nervous and anxious about what is going to come next. Because pretty soon she's going to be expected to not only understand the lines in the play but speak them too, flawlessly, without a script in her hand. And she's going to need to remember to do other stuff, like where to move and when to speak and it just seems impossibly overwhelming. Skye never made a habit of predicting where she would be even a few months down the road but occasionally her mind would wander and she'd let herself imagine crazy futures and lifestyles. But never, not once, did she imagine herself as an actress.

Thankfully Jemma and Fitz are already in the theatre and Skye is surprised at the sense of relief that courses through her when she sees Jemma standing off to one of side of the room. This time she heads over in her direction without Jemma noticing her first and beckoning to her.

Jemma smiles brightly when Skye walks over and while Fitz doesn't exactly look like he wants to murder her, Skye still isn't exactly getting the warm-welcome vibes from him.

Most of the chatter in the room comes to an immediate halt when May walks into the space and she doesn't waste time before she divides them into small groups so they can start running through lines with the people they'll most often be on stage with.

"Just focus on saying the words out loud." May says as she constructs the groups. "The language might seem difficult at first but once you get the feel of it, once you're used to speaking like this, you'll be surprised how natural it feels."

Jemma is sent off to a different group and Skye finds herself stuck with Fitz and the two actors playing Hamlet's uncle and mother. Fitz is all business, focused on working through the lines and keeping the other two actors on task while Skye just works on keeping up with the reading. Skye finds her attention wandering as Fitz recites one of his lengthy monologues and she meets Jemma's eyes from across the room and Skye is embarrassed to admit that she gets a goofy smile on her face when Jemma grins at her.

She just has a nice smile, okay? It's hard not to find it infectious.

* * *

They have rehearsals every day after school except for Fridays and Skye quickly adjusts to the new schedule. If she has one talent, it's the ability to adjust to a changing situation quickly. Coulson doesn't seem to mind that he has to pick her up several hours after the school day has ended and even though Skye would never dream of asking for her own car, not in a million years, she can't help but think that the freedom would be nice.

In chemistry class on Friday, Jemma asks Skye to be her lab partner and then asks if she would be interested in coming over to her house on Saturday to practice lines with her and Fitz. Even though Skye is in desperate need of a break from all things Shakespeare, she finds herself breaking her first cardinal rule of survival and accepting the invitation. She tries to keep Coulson's advice in mind, about how people might not always let her down, even though she's come to expect the worst out of everyone. Maybe now is as good a time as any to start putting herself out there.

It's almost sad how much she wants it.

Coulson drops her off at Jemma's with the promise to return in a few hours and there's a little smile on his face that he can't seem to hide that makes Skye want to roll her eyes at him while simultaneously feeling like the world's biggest loser. A grown man should not be this excited about his teenage foster daughter having friends. Skye should have just lied and told him she was the most popular kid in school.

Jemma opens the door before Skye even has the chance to knock and for some reason that makes Skye want to turn around and beg Coulson to take her back home. The only people who typically exhibit that kind of behavior –waiting around for her eagerly, greeting her with nervously excited smiles- are the people she usually ends up letting down and disappointing in a few weeks' time.

But Skye just follows Jemma through the house toward the living room, listening to her talk but not really taking in her words because she's too busy trying to take in her surroundings. Jemma lives in the type of house Skye used to dream about when she was little: neat and tidy but still lived in and homey, with family pictures all of the walls where the smiles seem genuine and everyone seems happy to be together. Jemma gestures vaguely in the direction of other rooms in the house: the kitchen, where Skye can hear someone moving around and smell something delicious in the process of cooking; the dining room; an office; upstairs where her bedroom is. Skye nods robotically as she tries to imagine what it would be like to grow up in this house, with parents who took her on family vacations and hung around on Saturdays in the kitchen. A house where she could bring friends to and not have to worry about explaining the truth of her situation or worry that she was taking up too much space or making herself too comfortable by having people over.

Fitz is already in the living room, busily highlighting lines in a paperback copy of _Hamlet_. He doesn't stop what he's doing to acknowledge Skye but she's learned that that probably has more to do with his single-minded focus on a project than his rather obvious dislike of her.

"Would you like us to help you run through your lines?" Jemma questions as she sits down on the couch next to Fitz. "Since you appear in the play before either of us."

Skye takes her own paperback copy of the play –courtesy of May- out of her bag and sits down on the floor across from the couch, the coffee table in between her and Jemma and Fitz. "Uh…sure." She should have figured that Jemma would want to get right down to business. She's never known anyone who took school as seriously as these two.

Fitz seems annoyed to be pulled away from his highlighting but he's smiling soon enough when Jemma tries to mimic the deeper voice that she attributes to Bernardo. The voice, coupled with Jemma's accent, keeps making Skye crack up and they're continually straying off topic due to their fits of giggling.

Even though it takes a while, they manage to make it through the first dozen lines and Skye manages to say most of hers without tripping all over them. Of course, they haven't gotten to the lengthier lines where she has to explain what happened to the last King of Denmark (see, she's getting the hang of this play) but she hopes it won't be too horrible.

"_Most like_," Skye says, keeping her eyes firmly on the words in front of her, "_It harrows me with fear and wonder_." She doesn't know why this Horatio guy can't just say that he's afraid of this ghost that's supposedly walking around but who is she to question Shakespeare anyway?

"_It would be spoke to_." Jemma says in her ridiculous man-voice that makes Skye want to start snickering every time she hears it.

But Fitz quickly delivers his line to stop another fit of laughter before it even starts. "_Question it, Horatio_."

Skye doesn't know why she couldn't be the guy who has lines that simple.

Before Skye reads her next lines, she lifts her head from the play and arches an eyebrow. "Why do they want Horatio to talk to it anyway?" She questions. "Am I like a Ghost Hunter or something?" She smirks.

Fitz doesn't look amused by this question but Jemma just shakes her head. "No, it's because he's a scholar, see?" She leans forward to point to a line in Skye's book. "Because he went to university, he's the best person to talk to the spirit."

Skye snorts out a laugh, shaking her head. "So, what? I went to…ghost college?" She laughs.

Jemma laughs as well but Fitz just glares at Skye. "If you aren't going to take this seriously then perhaps you should just leave." He snaps and Jemma stops laughing, her expression turning to one of surprise. "Some of us would like to actually begin learning our lines."

"Fitz!" Jemma's tone manages to sound both shocked and chiding.

But Fitz just rolls his eyes at her. "Oh, come off it, Jem." He says. "She's just doing this because Principal Hand is forcing her. She'll never take it seriously and she'll just drag us down with her."

Skye feels a tightening in her chest and she looks from Fitz to Jemma, who won't meet her gaze. So much for there being at least one person in the entire school who didn't know about her delinquency.

After a beat of heavy silence, Skye just clears her throat and closes her book, sliding it back into her bag. "I'm just going to go." She tells Jemma, forcing a smile onto her face as she gets to her feet. "But thanks for inviting me."

Skye quickly turns and heads for the front door before Fitz or Jemma can say anything more.

Skye makes it to the end of the driveway before she hears Jemma calling her name and even though she thinks about acting like she doesn't hear the girl and continuing on her apparent walk back to Coulson's house, Skye stops and waits for Jemma to catch up with her.

"Skye, please don't leave." Jemma says as soon as she's beside Skye. "Fitz didn't mean any of those things."

Even though Skye thinks that it's pretty obvious that Fitz did, in fact, mean everything he said, she figures that there's no reason to point this out to Jemma. So she just shrugs. "It's fine, really." She mutters. She's heard far worse, after all. "Everything he said was true, anyway."

Jemma's brow furrows. "What do you mean?" She questions. "You seem to be taking things quite seriously as far as I can tell."

Jemma's comment takes Skye off guard. She thought that it was pretty obvious that the importance of Fitz's comment had nothing to do with whether or not she was being serious about studying for the play. She thinks about how easy it would be to sweep everything under the rug and maybe attempt to salvage her friendship with Jemma, maybe without Fitz however, but instead Skye just sighs.

"I mean…the whole thing about Principal Hand." Skye mumbles and Jemma just continues to stare at her with a confused and concerned expression on her face. "She's…the only reason I even auditioned for the play was so I didn't get kicked out of school. Because I…" She trails off, trying to figure out how much of the story she can tell without revealing the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Jemma jumps in before Skye has to wonder for much longer. "Because of the window." She supplies. "And trying to steal money from the school. Yes, I already knew all of that." She tells Skye like this like there's nothing more obvious in the world. "But just because you might not have auditioned for the play on your own doesn't mean that you aren't capable of giving it your very best."

Jemma's pep talk falls on deaf ears because Skye is still stuck on Jemma's casual admission that Skye's misdeeds haven't gone unnoticed. "You already knew?" She questions, her forehead creasing. "And you didn't say anything?"

Jemma just shrugs. "What is there to say?" The way she asks the question makes Skye feel almost as though she's expecting an actual answer.

Skye purses her lips. "I…it's just…" She's not used to talking about herself, especially not when the things that she's saying are truthful. She's much better at making up a story, spinning some sort of yarn on the spot to impress or surprise people. But Skye feels like she wouldn't get away with a lie in this situation, even if she wanted to. "People always have something to say when they figure out I'm just some foster kid trying to convince another family to like me."

There. She said it. The dreaded "f" word. That simple word that seems to be the sum of her entire identity. Skye thinks it's probably the most open she's been with someone who wasn't Ward, someone who didn't know what it was like to be a child that no one ever wanted.

Jemma smiles at her and reaches out to take her hands and Skye finds herself holding on tightly. "Skye." Jemma says it like a sentence all on its own, like just that one word, that name that Skye's chosen for herself, can speak volumes. "Why would it matter to me if you were adopted or not?"

"Not adopted." Skye corrects quickly. "Technically I'm just an orphan. No one has ever adopted me."

"It doesn't matter." Jemma just barely manages not to roll her eyes but Skye can tell that she wants to do it anyway. And for some reason that makes her want to smile. "All that matters is that you're Skye and, perhaps, maybe…we could be friends?" There's a tentative and hopeful expression on her face.

Skye gives Jemma's hands a squeeze without meaning to. "I've…I've never had friends before." She admits and hates the way that she sounds like a total cliché. A teenaged outcast without friends? How totally John Hughes. "I usually don't stay in one place long enough to…" She purses her lips. "It just doesn't seem worth it."

Jemma smiles at her brightly. "Well, now you do." Skye feels a wave of gratitude toward Jemma for not mentioning anything past her simple comment about never having friends. No mention of what her comment about moving around frequently implies. Sometimes, Skye thinks simplicity is nice. "And Fitz will be your friend as well."

Skye laughs and shakes her head. "Yeah, right." She mutters. "I really don't think he likes me very much."

Jemma just shakes her head, hitching one shoulder in a shrug. "That's just Fitz." She tells Skye, as though that somehow explains everything. "He's just being protective of me."

"Well, I guess that's kind of his job." Skye points out. "Seeing as he's your boyfriend and all."

Jemma looks so taken aback by Skye's comment that it's almost comical. Her eyes go wide and she looks like someone just handed her scientific proof that the world was actually flat. Then she bursts into laughter and nearly doubles over, pulling her hands away from Skye's as she laughs. "My boyfriend?" She manages to choke out, shaking her head. "Oh, gosh no." She composes herself but there's still a smile on her face. "Fitz is definitely not my boyfriend. Is that really what you thought?"

Skye arches an eyebrow, amused by Jemma's reaction. She wonders how Fitz would feel knowing that the idea of dating him sent Jemma into hysterics. "Well…yeah." She shrugs. "I think that's probably what most people think. You two are always together, you're like inseparable. And so in sync."

"No, Fitz is not my boyfriend." Jemma tells her again. "He's my best friend." She scoffs to herself and shakes her head. "Boyfriend." She mumbles as though the idea is completely ludicrous.

"Good to know." Skye says and then immediately feels like an idiot. Why did she say that? Why does Jemma's single status constitute as something that is good to know? She just prays that Jemma doesn't ask her to explain her comment.

Thankfully, Jemma just suggests they return back to the house so they can try practicing their lines once more and Skye is quick to agree. When they return to the living room, Fitz has his copy of the play in one hand and a cookie in the other. "Jemma's mother made cookies." He says to Skye. "Chocolate chip."

It's not _exactly_ an apology and his tone isn't really any warmer than it usually is but Skye figures that she'll take it because it's a start. She hopes.

Skye sits down on the floor once more and reaches for a cookie and Jemma smiles at her and Skye feels like a little more of the weight in her chest disappears, just like it did after her conversation with Coulson about wanting to stay with him.

As she tries to focus on Fitz's attempts to memorize one of Hamlet's soliloquies, Skye thinks back to Jemma's comment about how Fitz is just protective of her and how it suddenly makes a lot less since now that she knows Fitz isn't Jemma's boyfriend. Skye also thinks that she could get herself into a lot of trouble if she let herself dwell on it for too long.

* * *

Skye has never been the type of person to settle into a routine. Her life has just never lent itself to a schedule or the certainty that comes with staying in one place for a prolonged period of time. She's rarely stayed in a school long enough to make long term goals like studying for an end of the unit test or turning in a project. And she's never lived with a foster family long enough to know what to expect in the normal day-to-day. But before she knows it, Skye has passed the four-week deadline that she set for herself and Coulson and has actually grown used to the daily routines of school and "family" life. She's never been wrong about a deadline before but somehow she can't bring herself to mind.

Gossip at the Belford School has died down and shifted to the typical topics that seem to make the rounds amongst high school kids: who's dating whom, weekend parties, who got drunk and passed out and other boring shit that Skye couldn't care less about. But she's more than happy to encourage those discussions because it means that people have lost interest in talking about her and her attempts to break into the school. Skye much prefers life under the radar, where she gets to try and catch up in her schooling for the first time in her life, where she gets to see Jemma every morning in chemistry and have lunch with Jemma and Fitz every day. Where she gets to show up to _Hamlet_ rehearsals every day after school and listen as May talks about blocking and staging and Skye has figured out by now that if May is ignoring her, that's pretty much the same thing as receiving a compliment from the teacher.

During the weekends, Skye splits her time between running lines with Fitz and Jemma and spending time with Coulson. It's the first time in her life when she's had more than one person interested in being around her; it's the first time she's ever felt wanted.

And really, spending time with Coulson isn't so bad. He understands the value of comfortable silence but he also knows how to carry on a conversation and Skye finds herself listening, rapt, while he tells her stories about traveling to Europe with Mia during his college days or how he run away from home when he was twelve and joined the circus for two weeks. Skye didn't believe that particular story at first but Coulson can paint a pretty convincing picture. She figures that's why people pay him so much money to write books.

Coulson teaches her how to expand on her meager culinary skills and Skye has discovered that the best way to get him talking about more personal subjects is to get him focused on something else. While Coulson teaches her how to make spaghetti sauce from scratch, he tells her about how he lost his own father when he was just a little boy. They make chicken makhani as Coulson tells her how he first met and eventually fell in love with Mia. But Coulson doesn't talk about why they started going through the adoption process or how he ended up with Skye instead of a younger child and Skye has definitely learned her lesson about asking those particular questions, even though the curiosity still nags at the back of her mind. She feels like she needs to know this before she can truly let herself start to relax, before she can truly accept the idea that, for the first time, she might be exactly what someone wants.

Skye has even tried reading some of the books in Coulson's spy series, which center around a spy who thought he was retired until his special skill set required him to go back into the field, forming a small, off-the-books team of specialized agents to deal with cases that most people would never believe. However, Skye has found that it's easier to just ask Coulson about the books and characters rather than read them herself; he's much more animated and interesting than the books themselves, in her opinion. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

"You should tell me about the book you're working on now." Skye asks one Saturday afternoon when she's sitting in Coulson's office with her computer in her lap and her back against the wall. "So I can be in the loop before your devoted fans."

Coulson laughs. "I'm not sure how devoted they are." He says and Skye definitely knows that he's being modest and she's pretty sure that he knows it too.

But Coulson lets her read the first hundred or so pages of the manuscript and Skye is surprised to find that he's introducing a new character to the team: a young girl with a questionable past and questionable loyalties who is slowly proving herself a valuable member of the team with her impressive computer skills. Skye is pretty sure that no one has ever done anything quite like that for her before and when she tells Coulson that she likes the story so far, she hopes that he can, once again, hear the unspoken words in her statement.

Skye is so content and at ease with her routine and her place at Coulson's and at the Belford School that she's slowly starting to forget all her rules about opening herself up and getting comfortable and letting herself hope. It's hard to keep up those walls with people like Coulson and Jemma around. Which is probably why when Jemma asks if she wants to come over Saturday night to watch one of the many film versions of _Hamlet_, Skye doesn't even think twice about accepting the invitation.

When she gets to Jemma's, Skye is surprised to see that Fitz isn't hanging around. She's pretty sure that the only time she ever sees the two of them apart is when their class schedules forcibly separate them. She looks over at Jemma in surprise. "Where's Fitz?"

If Skye isn't mistaken, an expression of disappointment flickers across Jemma's face before she forces it away. "Oh, I…I thought it might be nice if it was just the two of us." She toys nervously with the hem of her shirt, not looking at Skye. "But I didn't know you…I could go call him if you like."

When Jemma turns to grab her phone, Skye reaches out and puts a hand on her arm and Jemma looks almost surprised by the contact. "No…I…" She smiles nervously. "I think just the two of us is good."

Jemma grins brightly and Skye feels her heart flutter in her chest. Of course, this particular turn of events means that Skye is focused on anything but the movie. There are a few inches of space between her and Jemma on the couch but Skye feels like this is the closest they've ever been. Even though that's obviously not true. Earlier in the week, while they were working on some sort of experiment in chemistry class, their hands brushed together while she was handing Jemma something and they both pulled away like they'd been electrocuted. And, of course, there was the time when Jemma had held her hands while trying to convince her not to listen to Fitz's snarky comments.

Skye casually lets her hand drop from her lap and to the couch cushion, her fingers just barely brushing against the back of Jemma's hand. After a few minutes, Jemma links their pinkies together and both of them keep their gaze on the television like _Hamlet_ is the only thing that matters in the world. But Skye is pretty sure that Jemma's cheeks have gotten pink and she has to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

Suddenly, Skye really, _really_ wants to kiss her.

When Ophelia slowly begins to go crazy, driven mad by her father's death, Skye can't take it any longer. She feels like she's going to implode from all these thoughts about Jemma and kissing her and analyzing every look, every touch, every smile, plus the fact that Fitz isn't here, wondering if she's misreading things or if she's right in thinking that Jemma might want to kiss her too. Honestly, Skye's biological birth parents could have shown up in the living room at that moment and she barely would have registered their presence due to all the thoughts running through her head.

So Skye just leans over kisses Jemma and it's over quickly because her courage fails her as soon as she's in motion but when Jemma looks at her, eyes wide and lips partly slightly, Skye feels her resolve strengthen all over again and leans in to kiss her again. Jemma makes a soft noise of surprise, her hand lifting to rest on the curve of Skye's neck.

At first, the kisses are tentative and a little awkward and unpracticed but Skye can slowly feel Jemma start to relax and Skye feels her own heart beating rapidly in her chest, feeling like it might burst at any second, just from Jemma's touch. She wants more, even though her lips are tingling and bruised and her skin is hot and somehow prickled with goosebumps at the same time. It's a weird but nice mixture of sensations.

Before they realize it, the credits are rolling on the movie and for some reason that makes Jemma flustered and embarrassed. "Oh." She says, clearing her throat. "I suppose we missed the ending."

Skye grins at her and how adorable she looks with her cheeks and the tips of her ears pink and her hair slightly disheveled. "I think it's worth it." Skye remarks. "I feel like I've had _Hamlet_ on the brain twenty-four seven."

Jemma nods. "Yes, I agree. Though I have been thinking quite a lot about you." Her eyes go wide and she looks somewhat horrified, her cheeks growing a darker shade of red. "Well that was slightly embarrassing."

But Skye just smiles at her. "It was nice." And cute and sweet and adorable. All words she would use to describe Jemma.

Any further desires to kiss Jemma and be close to her are put on hold when they hear Jemma's father moving around in his study and Skye figures that she'd better go home anyway, though she doesn't mind when Jemma offers to drive her. Her hand rests on Jemma's knee throughout the entire drive and Skye can't resist the urge to lean over and kiss her when they get stuck at red lights. Not that Jemma seems to mind.

Skye is sure that she's grinning like an idiot as she walks up the driveway toward the front door and she takes a few seconds to run her fingers through her hair and smooth down any wrinkles in her shirt. It's not like she and Jemma got too carried away but still, better safe than sorry.

Coulson is sitting on the couch when Skye walks in, casually channel surfing but definitely giving off the vibe that he was waiting up for her. Not in a crazy over-protective parent capacity but in a _I won't be able to sleep until I know you're home_ way. Even though it's not like Skye is walking in past her curfew or anything. But it's still nice, in a way.

"Did you have a nice time?" Coulson questions, glancing over at Skye. "Did you enjoy the movie?"

Skye just smiles and she's can feel her cheeks start to grow red and she quickly heads into the kitchen, muttering something about a glass of water. Coulson just smirks and shakes his head.

**tbc. **


	4. Act Four

**A.N: **So, as some of you might be aware, in Georgia we don't know what snow is so when it snows it's basically like the end of the world. I've been stranded at my job since yesterday and will be here again tonight but...thanks to some ingenuity and the best roommate ever, here is the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for your continued thoughts, feedback and kind words!

**IV. **

Skye finds herself writing messages to Ward through their site in hopes that when he gets the chance he'll actually read them and they can marvel about the strange happenings in her life together. Phrases like _I'm actually going to be in a school play _and _I think I have a girlfriend now_ will be waiting to greet him as soon as he can get to a computer. Skye hopes that it's just the lack of a computer that's keeping him from replying to her messages and not something else; she's had faith in Ward and their friendship when she didn't have faith in anything else and she's determined to keep it that way.

At the moment, Skye can't afford to spare even a lingering thought for Ward. She has a history test tomorrow, so she's sure he'd understand. The rumbling of her stomach is distracting her from trying to pack away information about major battles and generals during the Civil War and the delicious smells of dinner wafting in from the kitchen aren't helping her keep her focus. But still, Skye keeps her focus on her text book and pages and pages of notes spread out in front of her, hoping that she'll magically come up with some way to distinguish the Battle of Bull Run from the Battle of Fort Sumter.

It doesn't seem likely.

The door bell rings and Skye calls out, "I'll get it!" before Coulson can even think about leaving the kitchen because she's so desperate for an excuse to get away from her studying that she'll do just about anything. She pulls the door open and is shocked to find Miss Martinez standing on the other side, looking prim, proper and a little bit bored.

"Miss Martinez." Skye says and she can't shake the little bit of dread that is suddenly pooling in her stomach. Why is her social worker here? The only time Skye has ever seen this woman is when she's being shuttled to and from St. Agnes and Skye feels her mouth go dry and her head start racing. Has she done something wrong? Is Coulson sending her back after all? Skye thinks back but aside from the whole window breaking, attempted theft incident she feels like things have been all right.

Without waiting for an invite, Miss Martinez steps past Skye and into the living room, taking off her sunglasses and tucking them into her purse. "Hello Margaret Mary." She glances around, studying the house.

"What are you doing here?" Skye questions, figuring that Miss Martinez's opinion of her wouldn't exactly be impacted by her sudden bluntness.

Coulson walks out of the kitchen and Skye feels the slightest twinge of relief when she sees that he looks just as surprised to see the social worker as she feels. He reaches forward to shake her hand, a welcoming smile on his face. "We weren't expecting you." Coulson says after he greets her.

"I know." Miss Martinez concedes. "It's policy to do at least one unannounced visit each month, just to see how the placement is going." She explains. She glances over at Skye. "I've never actually been able to pay one of these visits on her behalf."

Skye feels her shoulders slump slightly with relief. So this is just some sort of stupid foster care routine. She surreptitiously looks around to see what Miss Martinez is seeing right now and Skye has to admit that she and Coulson have managed to paint a very picturesque scene between the school books and the home made dinner cooking in the kitchen. Skye feels a little hint of pride. See, she can do normalcy.

Coulson invites the social worker to stay for dinner and she accepts and Skye thinks it's strange to have another person at the table after weeks of it just being her and Coulson. Miss Martinez pries into things a little too much for Skye's liking but she figures that's the woman's job and at least Coulson answers most of the questions. Skye subjects herself to being examined and paraded around like a show dog, getting out her graded school assignments and highlighted _Hamlet_ play. Neither she nor Coulson mention that the only reason she's part of the play is because of the whole botched theft incident.

Skye tries to focus on her studying when Coulson and Miss Martinez have a private meeting in Coulson's office upstairs but she can't help but wonder what they're both saying about her. She wants to trust Coulson enough to think that it's nothing but good stuff but there's still a part of her that thinks it's foolish to trust anyone at all and there's a little voice that's reminding her that she never can be too sure and that all this –the perfect house, Coulson, her routine, Jemma- might all be taken away from her.

Miss Martinez suggests that she and Skye go for a quick walk around the neighborhood and that doesn't really ease Skye's nerves any but when her social worker starts asking her questions about how she's fitting in and liking her new placement, Skye tries to will herself into thinking that it's all just part of the routine.

"And Mr. Coulson is treating you all right?" Miss Martinez questions after Skye tells her vague details about Jemma and Fitz. Skye's pretty sure that Fitz won't mind being counted as her friend in this situation. "I mean, he's not…" She pauses, clearing her throat. "You're not uncomfortable or…anything…?"

Skye swallows a laugh. Even though she had her own concerns in the beginning, it's impossible to think about Coulson as the type of person who would make anyone feel uncomfortable, especially in _that_ way. Skye just shakes her head. "No. Everything is…" She hesitates for a moment before finishing with, "really great" because she worries that she might have just jinxed herself.

Miss Martinez has a skeptical look on her face. "You're adjusting well? I mean, the friends, the play, it all seems a bit…" Skye can tell that she wants to say _too perfect_ but can't figure out how to say it without offending Skye. Skye had no idea she even cared.

"I really like it here." Skye says softly, looking down at her feet as they walk. "I want to stay." She hasn't said or thought those words since she was nine years old. She hates how vulnerable she sounds admitting them now.

Miss Martinez just puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and Skye thinks this is the first time that the woman has been anything more than just a government robot.

Even though Miss Martinez still looks surprised by the picture of domestic bliss, she gives Coulson the a-okay to continue on with the placement and gets back in her car and disappears into the sunset.

"I think we passed." Coulson remarks, holding his hand up for a high-five.

Skye laughs at the dorky gesture but she gives him one anyway.

* * *

It's a little bit odd, dating someone that you see nearly every day in a setting that doesn't exactly lend itself to PDA or affection. Not that Skye is going to complain about seeing Jemma on a daily basis because even though seeing her bright smile and being around her makes Skye want to kiss her so badly she almost can't talk herself out of it, she still gets to see her and that's what counts. Jemma seems somehow both shy and assertive at the same time; she'll blush if Skye touches her arm during a lab but she'll kiss Skye against the side of her car after rehearsals are over for the day. When they sit together at lunch, their knees press together and sometimes their hands will link under the table casually as though it's no big deal to do everything one-handed. Fitz has gotten used to giving them exasperated eye rolls and head shakes but he doesn't seem to mind this turn of events. In fact, Skye almost feels like it's put her more in his good graces, though he has an odd way of showing it.

Even though Skye used to laugh at the couples that somehow managed to form at St. Agnes or group off in the hallways of whatever school she was at, she can definitely understand where they're coming from now. Because Jemma is like a magnet, always pulling Skye to her, even when she's doing something as simple as studying her lines with her chin propped in the palm of her hand. Being wanted is a new sensation for Skye and Jemma definitely makes her feel wanted, even though she knows all her deep dark secrets. Well, some of them anyway. They're still wadding through the whole "getting to know you" phase and Skye likes it much better when Jemma is the one telling stories.

"So am I ever going to meet these friends of yours?" Coulson questions after the second weekend in a row that Skye is getting ready to go to Jemma's. "Because I'm definitely intrigued."

Skye shrugs, putting her laptop and her copy of _Hamlet _into her bag so she'll be ready when Jemma arrives. If Fitz isn't around, there won't be much rehearsal going on but Skye figures there's nothing wrong with being prepared. "Maybe." She drawls out the word. "It's not like a big deal or whatever." She adds self-consciously.

Coulson smirks and Skye figures that they both know that statement is a lie.

Skye thinks about Coulson's simple request as she listens to Jemma attempt to recite her lines from memory. Even though May hasn't told them that they need to be off-book yet, Fitz and Jemma are definitely working to that point, undoubtedly faster than anyone else. But Fitz isn't hanging around today, so Jemma is laying out on the couch with her feet in Skye's lap and her eyes closed, her face a picture of complete focus as she says her lines. Skye has one eye on the script in front of her and the other on Jemma, unable to keep from watching her. Skye isn't the type of person who uses the word "adorable" in normal conversation but she sure can think it.

"_That unmatched form and feature of blown youth blasted with ecstasy_-"

"Do you want to have dinner at my house sometime?"

Maybe it wasn't the best time to ask the question, considering that Jemma was on a roll with delivering her lines but Skye finds herself blurting the words out anyway and she figures that it's better that she asks them now, otherwise she might lose her nerve all together.

And she knows it's stupid, to get this worked up over having someone over for dinner. But Skye has never invited someone over for dinner before. Hell, she's never really told anyone the truth about her living situations and even if she had, it's not like she would invite someone over to St. Agnes or to whatever foster prison she was in for the time being. All these steps and stages, they're all new to Skye. Plus Jemma isn't just a friend, she's her girlfriend and that brings a whole new set of anxieties.

Jemma just smiles at her, apparently unbothered by the interruption. "Dinner at your house?" She repeats, somehow making it sound more sophisticated and posh in her accent. "Would your foster father be there?"

Skye toys with the ends of her hair. "Uh, yeah." She nods. "That's kinda…he wants to meet you…"

"Sounds serious." Jemma remarks, raising an eyebrow.

Skye shrugs. "I mean, it's not a big deal." She assures the other girl. "You don't have to. Don't feel pressured or anything. It's not…it's not a big deal." She says this again as though that will somehow make it more believable.

Jemma shifts her position so that she can easily give Skye a quick kiss. "I would love to have dinner with you." She assures Skye. "And meet your foster parent."

Skye can tell that Jemma feels slightly awkward calling him that but she clearly doesn't feel comfortable dropping the "foster" from either of those identifiers. Skye can relate to that better than she would have ever thought possible. "You can just call him Coulson." Skye suggests. "That's what I do."

Jemma just kisses her again and Skye is okay with that too.

* * *

Skye knows that there's really no reason for her to be nervous. Jemma is just coming over for dinner and to meet Coulson and it'll be fine, completely and totally fine so why does she feel like her stomach is knotting itself up and her mouth is so dry that she's not going to be able to say even one word. Now _that_ would be awkward.

She feels like it's already bad enough that she spent more than five minutes picking out what she was going to wear or that she's been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for the past ten minutes toying with how to wear her hair and putting on her makeup.

Coulson walks by on his way to the office and then pauses, back tracking so he can come to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, a smirk on his face as he watches Skye fuss with her appearance. Skye finally glances in his direction and he smiles at her. "You look very beautiful." He tells her. "Though I don't think I've ever seen you spend so much time primping. You're not nervous or anything, right?"

Skye just rolls her eyes at him and shuts the door in his face, though she doesn't manage to shut out the sound of his laughing.

Skye feels better about the whole thing when Jemma shows up and it's obvious that she put a great deal of thought into her appearance as well. Of course, that relief only lasts so long because now Skye can't seem to take her eyes off Jemma and that's not exactly how she saw this dinner going. As Skye introduces Jemma and Coulson to each other, she quickly realizes that she's been pretty oblivious about this whole dinner thing because it now seems painfully obvious that she's introducing her girlfriend to her "parent" instead of just bringing a friend over for dinner.

Even though Skye can tell that Jemma is nervous, she still manages to be her usual adorable and charming self, though Skye is pretty sure that her accent gives her an unfair advantage when it comes to charming people. She and Coulson talk about everything from some news story about genetic testing to the plants out in the front yard and Skye feels herself slowly start to relax.

Jemma's hand finds Skye's under the table and they link their pinkies together and Skye feels a rush of warmth spread through her chest and she realizes that these are the two most important people in her life, that she actually _has_ important people in her life and for some reason it makes her want to cry and get all sappy so she just focuses on finishing her dessert. She never thought she would be this person, the person who had people who belonged to her and who called her their own. But here she is. Skye thinks it feels pretty nice to want something.

Coulson asks Jemma about the play and Skye can't help but roll her eyes because apparently there's no escaping _Hamlet_ wherever she goes. Jemma confesses that her father is a huge fan of Coulson's books and has read every single one of them and that he sent her over to the house tonight to dig up information about the upcoming novel. Coulson laughs and shrugs the praise off but Skye can tell that it pleases him anyway. There's still a shadow of sadness in his eyes that doesn't go away even though his laughter is genuine and Skye wonders if she carries that same shadow around with her too and if people notice it when they look at her. Though, before Jemma, Skye figures that people never really stopped to look at her long enough to really see her anyway.

All in all, Skye has to say that the evening is a success. It just feels…normal. Not like she's just some transient foster child in another temporary home with another temporary family. It doesn't seem temporary. That realization would have terrified Skye months ago but now she lets herself savor it and keep it close like a particularly good secret.

When Skye goes to walk Jemma out to her car, Jemma suddenly shifts from the charming and confident person that dazzled Coulson for the past two hours to an anxious, nervous and fidgety Jemma that Skye has only rarely seen. "Was that all right?" Her tone is beseeching, her brow furrowed as she looks at Skye desperately for confirmation. "Do you think he liked me?"

It's all Skye can do to keep from laughing in her face. "Of _course_ he liked you." She assures the other girl. "How could anyone not like you?"

"You'd be surprised." Jemma tells her. "When I get nervous I talk far too much and I have a tendency to ramble and half the time people don't even what I'm talking about and-"

Skye interrupts her with a kiss, taking her hands and twining their fingers together. She feels Jemma sigh against her lips and start to relax. "He liked you." Skye assures her. "And I like you." This she says a bit shyly, as though it's somehow news.

Jemma beams at her and pulls her in for another kiss. When Jemma finally manages to get into her car and drive away, Skye is breathless and her heart is beating out a rhythm that's probably akin to cardiac arrest.

Skye finds Coulson in the kitchen, cleaning up the last traces of dinner. Of course Jemma had insisted on helping clean before she left so they'd already gotten most of it but some things still have to put wrapped up and put away.

"So, do you think she liked me?" Coulson asks when Skye comes in to help him finish cleaning up.

Skye just scoffs and shakes her head. "She asked me the same thing." She explains when Coulson gives her a look of confusion.

Coulson shrugs. "You can't blame me." He points out. "It's a big deal, right? Meeting your friend. Or, your…" He trails off, looking at her expectantly.

Skye blushes and turns her head away but she knows that Coulson sees the reaction anyway so apparently the question is answered whether she wants to actually say the words out loud or not.

"Do I need to give her the talk?" Coulson questions, a grin sliding onto his face. "You know, the whole 'if you break her heart I'll…do something threatening' thing?"

Skye feels herself blanch at the thought. "Uh…_no_." Even though Coulson is kidding (he _is_ kidding, right?) she doesn't want to take any chances.

He might not look too imposing but who knows what he's learned through researching his novels.

Coulson nudges her with his elbow. "C'mon." He teases. "It's like a rite of passage thing, right?"

Skye tries to give him an intimidating glare. "How 'bout you don't embarrass me and we skip this particular rite of passage?" Sounds pretty good if you ask her.

"Oh, so I'm embarrassing you now?" Coulson looks slightly offended, but the smile is still lingering on his face. "Isn't that kind of my job?"

Skye just rolls her eyes. But his comment doesn't go unnoticed. Apparently she's not the only one starting to get comfortable with the way things are.

* * *

Skye is surprised how the lines that she once struggled just to understand have slowly become engrained in her mind and have started to become almost second nature. Sometimes she even dreams about her lines, which is a little embarrassing to admit but her subconscious has always been a strange place.

In the theatre, the smell of paint is strong in the air and Skye finds herself constantly distracted by all of the different things that are going on at once. Sets are being painted, sword play being practiced and the lights keep flickering on and off like the ghost of Old Hamlet really is lurking around in the shadows. But she tries to keep her focus on reciting her lines from memory as she works on one of the scenes that she has with Fitz.

"_A worthy pioner_!" Fitz is saying. "_Once more remove, good friends_." He looks at Skye expectantly, though he no longer wears the glare that Skye had gotten used to seeing before she and Jemma started dating. She figures this is Fitz's definition of trying to make friends and she'll take it.

"_O day and night, but this is wondrous strange_!" Skye recites from memory after only a beat of searching her memory.

Fitz actually smiles at her and Skye figures that's definitely a victory even if she can't remember any other lines in the play. "_And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come-_"

Before Fitz can continue with the rest of his lines, someone bumps into him from behind, knocking him forward and nearly causing him to lose his footing all together. Skye reaches out a hand to study him and sees the guy who knocked into him smirking in a way that definitely lets her know it wasn't an accident. The guy, Bobby Wheeler, walks by, laughing with two of his friends. Skye glares at them, which only makes them laugh harder.

"What was that about?" Skye questions, looking at Fitz.

Fitz just shakes his head. "He's just upset because he wanted to be Hamlet but he can barely remember his own name, let alone entire lines of dialogue." He mumbles. "At least, I assume that's why he's upset. He's never really needed a reason in the past to be an idiot."

Skye glances across the theatre toward Bobby and his pissant friends and gives them another glare for good measure. Bobby looks like he's about to walk back in their direction but May appears seemingly out of nowhere and even though Skye can't hear what she's saying, it's clear that she's cowing Bobby and his friends.

Skye is halfway out of the drama building before she realizes that she's left her copy of _Hamlet_ behind with a stack of books she checked out from the library earlier that day to help her with her research paper on Reconstruction. Thankfully May hasn't locked up the theatre yet, so Skye is able to retrieve her books without too much trouble and when she tells May to have a good evening the woman just looks at her with a stony expression and the wisp of a smirk on her face. Skye figures that's as good as May returning the sentiment.

When Skye makes her way to the parking lot, she finds that she and Fitz and Jemma aren't the only people still hanging around. Bobby and one of his groupies look like they're auditioning for a part in _West Side Story_ the way that they've got Jemma and Fitz cornered against the side of Jemma's car and Skye wonders if there's anything more cliché than the idiot jock picking on his nerdy peers.

Bobby gives Fitz a shove but Fitz doesn't look like the idea to fight back or even protest the treatment crosses his mind. In fact, both he and Jemma have the stance of a person who is used to being teased and pushed around and have learned long before that it's best just to stand there and take it and it'll all be over soon. Well that just won't sit with Skye.

After all, she'd once been suspended from the school that all St. Agnes refugees went to for getting into a fight with a couple of older kids who were pushing around one of the younger boys from St. Agnes. Even though it resulted in a week's suspension and kitchen and janitorial duty at St Agnes, it's one of Skye's better moments. In her opinion anyway. It took two teachers to pull her off the older kid, which led to Ward calling her "the wolverine" for three months.

But, as much as she'd like to, Skye knows that walking up and whacking Bobby across the back of the head with the books in her hands would probably not be the best choice. Knowing Principal Hand, she'd use the "fight" as an excuse to really throw Skye out of school and then where would she be? Definitely not Horatio, that's for sure.

"Is there a problem here?" Skye questions, dropping her books onto the ground, pleased when the noise seems to startle Bobby and his buddy. She arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest.

Bobby gives Fitz another push and Jemma reaches out to steady him before he knocks back into the car. Bobby grins at Skye as he turns around to face her and it's really all Skye can do not to laugh because _hello, cliché_. She's ready for some rocking 80's soundtrack to start playing out of nowhere.

"You gonna kick my ass?" Bobby questions and his friend laughs like he's on _Last Comic Standing_. "I bet you learned all about fighting in your orphanage, right?"

Skye purses her lips, unimpressed. "Yeah, definitely. It was run by Brad Pitt so lessons came standard." She pauses and shakes her head. "Shoot, just broke the number one rule." She snaps her fingers in faux-disappointment.

Bobby just looks confused and Skye smirks. "You know…number one rule of Fight Club…?" She looks at him expectantly but he just looks back at her. "You know, Fitz really did you a favor. Hamlet has like a million lines to remember."

"Actually-" Fitz starts but Jemma just puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head.

Skye shrugs. "So you should really stop messing with my friends." She tells Bobby frankly.

"Or what?" Bobby questions. "Gonna break another window?" He laughs and shakes his head. "You're not as badass as you think you are. I mean, you got caught in like five minutes."

Skye steps closer to him, a conspiratorial expression on her face. "Or maybe that was supposed to happen. Maybe I just wanted to lower everyone's defenses. Just think about everything else I've done that I haven't gotten caught for." She smirks and winks at him before moving out of his personal space and picking up her books.

This comment seems to throw Bobby for a loop and he stares at Skye with a cautious look on his face while she moves past him and his friend toward Jemma's car. Jemma climbs into the driver's seat with a smile on her face while Fitz looks like he's trying to remind himself to be civilized and not throw out some last insult. They probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

Jemma takes her hand and gives it a squeeze, lacing their fingers together as they drive toward Coulson's house. Skye catches a glimpse of Fitz in the rearview mirror and he's got a smile on his face and she figures that the only downside of the whole encounter is that she now has "When You're a Jet" stuck in her head. Definitely not as amusing as it sounds.

But on the plus side, when Coulson asks how her day was, Skye gets to tell him that she almost got into a fight and enjoy the way he tries to keep his expression constrained. She has to hand it to him though, he's pretty good at the whole going with the flow thing.

Before bed, Skye makes sure to hack into all of Bobby's social media accounts, post ridiculous statuses and then change all the passwords so that he can't get back into them. She also finds her way to the Belford School's online grade book and switches up a few of his grades. Because apparently she didn't learn the first time. And she _still_ finds it hilarious.

**tbc. **


	5. Act Five

**A.N: **Hello all! So this is the final installment of the story and I can't thank you enough for all your thoughts, comments and sweet words. I'm glad everyone has enjoyed the story so far and I hope that you like the ending as well! Thanks again for all the feedback!

**V.**

Skye figures that she should have seen this coming. Honestly, it was only a matter of time. She _should_ have seen it coming.

But for some reason, Jemma's invitation to come have dinner at her house and meet _her_ parents this time around catches Skye completely off guard. It's not like she's never met Jemma's parents before; she's spent enough time at Jemma's rehearsing for _Hamlet_ and she's shaken hands and exchanged pleasantries. But for some reason it feels completely different now. Because Jemma is going to march her into the house and proclaim in her cutesy, adorable accent, "Mum, Dad, this is my girlfriend."

But of course Skye accepts. Even though the prospect is utterly terrifying.

"How do I look?" Skye asks, presenting herself to Coulson after she's spent far too much time becoming someone who agonizes over her wardrobe and appearance. The best part about living in Southern California is that even though it's fast approaching the end of October, she can still wear a dress. Yet another purchase made possible thanks to Coulson.

Coulson smiles at her and nods. "Very becoming." He assures her. "Perfect for a meet the parents dinner."

Skye exhales in relief but that feeling is short lived. "What if they don't like me?"

Coulson gives her an indulgent smile and pats her on the shoulder. "I'm sure that Jemma had the very same concerns." He points out. "And haven't you met them before?"

Well, yeah. But Skye doesn't feel like explaining the whole thing about nuances to Coulson.

Instead she just gives herself one last look in the mirror and tucks her cell phone into the pocket of her dress. "Okay. I think I'm ready." Skye says in a tone of voice that makes her sound a lot more certain than she feels.

Coulson picks the car keys up off the coffee table and tosses them to Skye and he finds the expression of surprise on her face to be quite humorous. Skye gives him a skeptical look. "Wait…you're not…" She quirks an eyebrow. "You're not really going to let me drive Lola, are you?"

Coulson shrugs. "You don't need me driving you around everywhere." He points out. "I think you can handle it."

"But…Lola." Skye has heard Coulson fawn over his 1962 Corvette countless times since her first weekend with him and she's pretty sure that he devotes more time to keeping the car shiny and sparkling clean that he does to any other hobby. Including his writing. She's pretty sure that Lola is Coulson's pride and joy and the one time she even jokingly asked to take the car for spin he laughed in her face and then kept laughing sporadically for the next ten minutes.

"It's just one night." Coulson says with a shrug. His casual attitude is starting to seem a little more forced. "Just this once. Seriously. Don't get used to it."

Skye gives him a salute. "Don't worry, I'll bring her back home safe and sound."

"I know." Coulson smiles. "By curfew. Midnight."

Skye gives him the same look that most teenagers manage to perfect before their sixteenth birthday, the one that simply says _you've got to be kidding me_.

"Oh, I like that expression." Coulson teases. "It's like you've stopped caring about always staying on my good side and have become a real teenager now."

Skye starts to protest but Coulson cuts her off. "At twelve o' one, I'm calling the cops." He says it with a smile on his face that makes it really hard for Skye to tell if he's being serious or just continuing to tease her.

She decides to get while the gettin' is good and take Lola to Jemma's. And not once does she think about taking the car and going anywhere but straight there. She's far too anxious to think about anything but the upcoming dinner.

Of course, all Skye's worries prove to be unfounded. Being at Jemma's for the official "meet the family" dinner is a lot like being at Jemma's any other time, only with a lot less _Hamlet_ and iambic pentameter. Skye feels like she manages to keep from embarrassing herself and occasionally utters a particularly witty or charming sentence. Of course, that doesn't mean that she is above attempting to bribe Jemma's parents a little; she gives Jemma's father an autographed copy of the first book in Coulson's series and compliments practically everything about Jemma's mother on what feels like an endless loop.

After dinner, Skye and Jemma go upstairs to Jemma's room to watch a movie ("with the door open" is stressed continuously) and Skye exhales in relief as she flops onto Jemma's bed. "You know, I've spent a lot of my life trying to convince people that they liked me and wanted to keep me around." She tells Jemma. "But I'm not sure that I've ever been that nervous."

Jemma laughs and shakes her head, slipping into bed beside Skye. Gone are the nervous glances and awkward gestures; gone is the hesitation that once came before even the simplest touch. Skye thinks that she likes Jemma best in these moments, when she's completely at ease and self-assured. It's why she loves letting her take control of the experiments in chemistry class, loves listening to her give some long, rambling answer to one of Mrs. Montgomery's questions. She loves seeing her work with May during rehearsals, dealing with blocking and rattling off her lines by heart. And she loves that Jemma has, for some reason, decided that Skye is the person that she can be at ease and self-assured around.

"They liked you." Jemma assures her. "I can tell." She kisses Skye gently and her lips taste sweet from the key lime pie they had with dinner.

It surprises Skye when, after five minutes of channel surfing, Jemma eventually settles on one of the _Final Destination _movies. She never would have pegged Jemma as the type of person who found anything interesting about cheesy, scary movies. But Skye is too comfortable, tucked against Jemma's side, to complain about anything at the moment.

It's nice just being here with Jemma, feeling the gentle pressure of her arm around her waist and her head on Skye's shoulder. All the worries that Skye feels like she constantly carries around with her, the concerns of never being good enough or of never finding a place that she can call her own seem to slip away in moments like this one and she almost feels untethered somehow. But it's hardly a bad thing.

Skye honestly doesn't even feel herself start to fall asleep. It just happens, pressed against Jemma and surrounded by her fluffy quilt and her fluffy white pillows and the other things that Skye loves about her room because they're so delightfully Jemma. Really, it would be impossible to fight sleep under these circumstances.

When Skye opens her eyes again, she's hit with a wave of confusion and disorientation and she scans her surroundings, trying to remember which foster home she's in now and what family she's been stuck with. But when she feels Jemma's weight still pressed against her, it all starts coming back and she smiles, glancing over at Jemma. Jemma is sleeping with her head on Skye's shoulder and her arm still draped loosely around her waist. The television is still playing that stupid _Final Destination_ movie and…

It takes Skye only a second to realize that it's not the same movie that was on the last time she checked. And, yeah, she knows how that sounds but there are more important things to worry about than the fact that she can tell these movies apart.

Skye glances at the clock on Jemma's bed and feels her heart freeze up in her chest. No. No no no no no. Two twelve. In the morning. That cannot be right.

"Fuck." Skye whispers, sitting up straighter and shifting Jemma's position. "Damn it. Shit." She could probably keep going if she needed to. "Jemma, wake up." She nudges Jemma gently and then a little bit harder when the other girl stirs but doesn't wake.

Jemma finally blinks her eyes open, looking just as disoriented as Skye felt only moments before but she manages a faint smile. "Skye." She seems to come more awake when she sees the expression on Skye's face. "What's the matter?"

"It's two in the morning." Skye says, wishing that it wasn't the case. Apparently time didn't have a problem marching on without her as she slept for four hours. "Two in the morning. Oh God. I'm dead."

She really hopes that Coulson wasn't serious about the whole calling the cops thing.

"Oh bollocks." Jemma mutters, pushing herself into a sitting position and combing her fingers through her hair. "I can't believe we fell asleep." She puts a hand on Skye's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Skye shakes her head. "No. Coulson told me to be back at midnight and I have his car and he loves that car, seriously loves that car and I'm dead." She slides off Jemma's bed, even though there's that annoying little voice that's telling her that she might as well stay since it's already so late. And as much as she would love to go back to cuddling with Jemma…Skye pushes that little voice aside.

The rest of the house is still and quiet around them and Skye wonders if Jemma's parents just carried on about their night and went to bed perfectly content in the knowledge that their precious, angel daughter would never do anything untoward under their roof. They were right, but that's beside the point right now. Skye could have used a "you better not be defiling our daughter" wake-up call around eleven forty-five.

Jemma walks Skye out to Lola, still waiting patiently in the driveway, and even though Skye is beyond eager to get back to Coulson's, she definitely doesn't rush the goodbye kisses. Especially because Coulson just might murder her when she finally does get home.

Despite this rather unfortunate turn of events, Skye finds herself with the hint of a smile on her face as she pulls away from Jemma's. Jemma definitely has that effect on her, regardless of the situation apparently.

Skye turns the headlights off as she pulls onto Coulson's street, hoping against hope that maybe Coulson fell asleep too and she can slip into the house undetected and act like this whole thing never happened. She leaves Lola parked in the driveway rather than risking the noise of opening the garage door. Skye holds her breath as she unlocks the door and eases it open, praying that luck is on her side for once.

She's never been a magnet for good luck.

Coulson is sitting on the couch when Skye walks into the living room and the expression on his face lets her know that she's not going to be able to quip her way out of this situation. Skye offers him what she hopes is a winning smile (though she's pretty sure it just comes off as nervous) and holds up the keys. "Back safe and sound." She assures him.

But Coulson hardly seems interested in the car. He stands up but he doesn't move any closer to her, so Skye feels like they're two gunslingers in an old west movie waiting to see who draws first.

"Do you know what time it is?" Coulson questions, his voice low and his expression stony. But his eyes betray him.

Skye nods. "Look, it was an accident." She assures him. "I fell asleep watching a movie with Jemma. I swear. I just fell asleep."

Coulson sighs and shakes his head. "Skye-"

"I'm home now, okay? And so is your precious car." Skye points out, wishing she could take the edge out of her voice. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal?" Coulson repeats, his brow furrowing. "The big deal is that it's two in the morning. I had no idea where you were. You weren't answering your phone, I had no way of knowing if you were still at Jemma's or if something had happened to you." Skye finds herself annoyed by how level his voice is right now because if he was screaming at her maybe she wouldn't feel so bad. "The big deal is that I put trust in you and you let me down."

Skye scoffs and shakes her head. "Yeah, join the fucking club." She mutters, stung. She starts to move past him, toward the stairs.

But Coulson reaches out to stop her from going. "No, you're not going to storm out now, Skye." He tells her. "We're going to talk about this."

Skye whirls back around to face him and crosses her arms over her chest. "Okay. So. Talk."

She hates herself right now, she really does.

Coulson chooses to ignore the tone in her voice and the expression on her face but Skye can't help but wonder how long that's going to last. Because eventually she'll push him too far. It's a specialty of hers.

"It's not going to work this way, Skye." Coulson tells her. "Without trust or respect. From both of us. And I have to be able to trust you. I have to know that you're going to follow the rules that I set."

Skye scoffs. "You're not my father." She snaps. "You can't tell me what to do."

There, she said it. The horribly clichéd line that seems to come out of every petulant teenage character in every Lifetime movie ever made. And now Skye can count herself among the ranks of bratty teenage bitches.

"You're right, I'm not your father." Coulson snaps at her, his patience finally frayed. "But your father isn't here, is he? He never has been. It's just me. I'm all you've got right now Skye and goddamnit you're-" Coulson catches himself even though Skye can tell that there's something more that he wants to say, something that he forces himself to swallow down.

The silence hangs between the two of them, full of Coulson's unspoken words and the ones that he's already said, the truth of the situation. The real reason that Skye is staying in a house that isn't hers, living with a man who isn't her parent, the latest of many homes that weren't hers with people who weren't her parents. Because she has no parents of her own and she never has.

Coulson sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. "Just go to bed, Skye." He says, sounding tired and dismissive now instead of frustrated and angry.

Skye doesn't have to be asked twice. She stomps up the stairs and slams the door shut, even though she feels like she's just going through the motions of having a temper tantrum and she doesn't really feel any of the anger that she's acting out right now. She changes out of her dress and into the most comfortable pair of pajamas she owns and climbs into bed, taking refuge under the covers.

It's a relief when her pissy, woe-is-me text to Jemma actually gets answered and she and Jemma exchange messages back and forth for a while and even though Skye can't bring herself to admit that the person she's really mad at is herself, Jemma seems to understand this anyway and tries to make her texts as comforting as possible. And Skye feels marginally better because of them but she can't shake the frustration and disappointment she's feeling toward herself because she couldn't just say what she was really thinking or feeling. She couldn't tell Coulson she was a sorry for worrying him and being irresponsible. She couldn't tell Coulson that she's never had anyone care about her or her whereabouts before, someone who would truly worry about her if she didn't come home. All she's ever wanted in her life was someone to worry about her, a father to yell at her for breaking curfew. Hell, someone to care enough to set a curfew in the first place. And when she finally gets exactly what she's always wanted, what does she do? She pushes him away. Because she pushes away everyone.

And who would want to keep someone like that around?

Skye feels her heart squeeze in her chest as she thinks about going back to St. Agnes. She can picture it so clearly in her head: Coulson coming into her room tomorrow morning, telling her that it's not going to work out after all, that he can't trust her. Skye thinks that Coulson would at least have the decency to tell her to her face that he's sending her back, rather than just letting Miss Martinez do it for him. And Skye will go back to St. Agnes and Jemma will be sweet and understanding and she'll make the effort to keep up with conversations and visits but Skye will ultimately be the one who starts ignoring her, for Jemma's own good. And everything that she's had, everything she's come to enjoy and love and, yes, even hope for, will be gone.

Even though Skye had been certain she had a long night of tossing and turning ahead of her, her exhaustion gets the better of her and she ends up falling asleep with her phone in her hand and the knot still in her chest.

When Skye wakes up the following morning, she can tell that it's late, later than she's used to sleeping even on the weekends. At St. Agnes, sleeping past seven was pretty much unheard of so she's grown up being a morning person by default. But the time on her phone tells her that it's closer to eleven than ten and Skye finds herself being filled with a sense of dread as she starts to come fully awake. It was better when she was sleeping; she could ignore what happened only hours before and put off the inevitable ending to her placement with Coulson.

Skye pulls the covers back over her head and makes a cave underneath them; while this might be a useful strategy for hiding from the world, it doesn't make it easy to hide from her own thoughts.

Some time later, there's a knock on the door and Skye mumbles something from beneath her fort, feeling a wave of nausea roll over her. She really, really hates this part.

When Skye pokes her head out from underneath the blankets, she sees Coulson leaning against the door frame. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept much and his eyes are heavy with sadness the way they were when Skye first met him.

Coulson opens his mouth like he's going to say something but he just sighs instead, shaking his head. "Mia was always the best at this part." He tells Skye and she can't help but watch him with a guarded expression on her face. "The apologizes and…I don't know," he shrugs, "just all of it."

Skye pushes herself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. She refuses to let herself get her hopes up. After all, the apology that Coulson could be attempting to make might be "I'm sorry for sending you back to St. Agnes." She's heard that before, many times. And she knows her own lines so well: "It's okay, I understand. It's fine, really. I understand, it's for the best." They were a lot easier to memorize than her lines from _Hamlet_.

"Last night…I was just angry because I was worried about you and I…I shouldn't have said those things. About your parents." Coulson tells her.

Skye just shrugs. "Why not? It's true." It's hard to keep the biting tone from her voice, the tone that always creeps into her voice when she's talking about her parents. She doesn't even know their names so she feels like she has the right to be just a little bit bitter.

Coulson shakes his head. "But I still shouldn't have said what I did." He tells her and he seems sincere in this belief so Skye decides not to press the issue. He steps into the room and sits down on the edge of the bed and Skye pulls up her legs to make room.

For a minute, neither of them say anything. Skye is still too tense, too afraid to do anything but sit there, stone still, and wait. She's tired of hoping because it ultimately just leads to this moment and then she has nothing but her own foolishness.

"Mia was so excited to get started with the whole adoption process." Coulson says finally and Skye is surprised that this is the direction their conversation is taking. Though she's by no means out of the woods. After all, Coulson could finish that statement up with _and so was I and then I got you_. "And you're right, we did want a younger child. Not necessarily a baby, but definitely not a teenager. Someone younger, someone we could watch grow up."

Skye's heard all that before too but it feels like a strange sort of betrayal when she hears the admission from Coulson now.

"I thought about telling the agency to just forget the whole thing, after Mia died." Coulson continues and Skye feels like this isn't the sort of conversation she needs to be a willing participant in. Coulson just needs someone there to listen. "But then I thought…"

Coulson looks over at Skye and she keeps her face impassive. "I know what it's like to spend your life hoping and wanting something and have it taken away."

And Skye thinks _of course you do_ and feels horrible for not making that connection sooner.

"And I think I was being selfish when I decided to have an older child come stay." Coulson sighs, looking almost ashamed by his confession. "Because I just wanted someone who could understand how I was feeling."

Skye moves across the bed and throws her arms around Coulson, burying her face against his shoulder. Coulson wraps his arms around her, deepening the embrace and Skye feels so relieved that it's almost exhausting. Because she hasn't stopped hoping or wanting and she knows there's no way that she can just switch that part off in her brain, not now, she's too far gone. And clearly Coulson hasn't stopped hoping either and Skye understands.

* * *

"Opening night is in three days." May is saying as she regards the motley group of students that she's been trying to turn in Shakespearean actors. Principal Hand had laughed when she'd told her she'd wanted to do a production of _Hamlet_, one of Shakespeare's most difficult plays, and then, to make things worse, Hand stuck her with the window breaking delinquent. But Skye has proved to be far from a burden and May feels like her principle actors are strong enough to make the play a success. So take that Hand. Not that she needs her approval.

"I think you all have put in a lot of hard work and effort." May continues, the barest hint of a smile on her face as she talks. "But these next few days are crucial. Our rehearsals will be longer but it'll pay off on opening night."

Skye quickly discovers that is not an understatement. Because _Hamlet_…it's a long play. Even with the few changes that May made to the script. It's long. This was something that had escaped Skye's attention when she was just working on her own scenes and watching May work on blocking with some of the other cast members. Now that they're going through the entire thing, Skye isn't sure that she can handle a dress rehearsal plus a weekend's worth of performances.

Even though there's no one in the audience, Skye feels herself falling victim to stage fright that makes it almost impossible for her to remember her lines. Let alone trying to remember all about blocking and moving around. May has her start over twice during the scene when they first see the ghost and once when the ghost makes Hamlet and Horatio swear to avenge his death.

"Nice job, Skye." Bobby heckles from backstage and either he doesn't care that May can hear him as well or he's not aware of that fact. "You're killing it."

"That's pretty rich coming from someone who has three lines." Fitz mutters, glaring in the general direction of where Bobby is waiting stage left.

"While we have to thank Mr. Wheeler for giving us an authentic Elizabethan theatre experience, we don't need any more comments from the peanut gallery." May remarks before glancing back at Skye. "Again." She says, not unkindly.

It's dark outside by the time Skye leaves the theatre with Jemma and Fitz and she feels exhausted, like she's been running a marathon and not just going through play rehearsals.

"Three days." Skye mumbles, shaking her head. "There's no way I'm going to be ready in three times."

Jemma slips her hand into Skye's, pressing their palms together. "It's a lot to remember, but you'll be fine." She assures her girlfriend.

"Don't let that idiot get to you." Fitz adds, furrowing his brow as though Bobby is around for him to glare at. "I'll be impressed if he manages to get his costume on straight."

Before Skye can climb into the passenger seat, someone yells her name from across the parking lot and for a minute she thinks that Bobby Wheeler and his idiot buddies have decided to go for round two of their parking lot confrontations. But when Skye turns in the direction of the voice, she realizes that it's not Bobby after all and a huge grin splits across her face.

Skye easily closes the distance between them and all but throws herself into Ward's arms, clinging to him tightly like it's been years instead of months since they'd last seen each other. But their last interaction wasn't exactly conducted under the best of circumstances so it might as well have been a year since they'd last seen each other.

Ward gives her a bear hug that nearly pushes the air out of her lungs before setting Skye back down on her feet. "It's about time. I've been waiting out here for hours."

"What are you even doing here?" Skye questions, a grin on her face. "I haven't heard from you in weeks."

Ward shrugs, giving her a bashful look. "I know, that's my fault. I've been in Oregon working on this construction job and I haven't been able to get to the computer. But I had to come see this play thing for myself." He nudges her with his elbow. "I had no idea you were interested in life on stage."

Skye scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. That's really not how it happened." She assures him.

Before Skye can say anything else about her actorial debut, Ward catches sight of something over Skye's shoulder and a smile spreads across his face. "Is this the girlfriend?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Skye.

Skye feels herself blush and she turns around to see Jemma and Fitz standing there behind her. Jemma has an shy smile on her face and Fitz is wearing the same guarded expression that Skye is definitely experienced with.

She makes introductions all around and Ward looks surprised when she mentions St. Agnes; they've never made a habit of attaching that place or the specifics of how they know each other to any introductions.

The four of them decide to go out for a late dinner (Skye makes sure to text Coulson her plans to avoid any more unnecessary fights and worries about her whereabouts) and as they're walking into the restaurant, Ward gives Skye another nudge. "She's pretty." He tells her under his breath so Jemma and Fitz can't hear. "And she's got that _Harry Potter_ accent thing going on, which is hot." Skye rolls her eyes at him. "She seems nice."

Skye smiles at him, nodding. "Yeah, she is." There's a slightly distracted tone to her words as she lets her mind wander toward Jemma and the time they've been able to spend together. It's all just…nice.

"Look at you." Ward says, shaking his head. "Acting in a play, making it work in yet another foster hell, getting a girlfriend." He arches an eyebrow. "I never would have pegged you for the type." Skye whacks him on the arm. "No offense." He gives her a shove. "But you have to admit…it's a little weird."

Skye scoffs at him and glares, giving him another whack for good measure. Yeah, it's weird. And she never would have guessed that she'd actually find a place and people that would accept her and that she felt comfortable with. So it is weird. But that doesn't mean that she has to admit it to Ward.

Even though it means more driving, Jemma takes Skye home last and doesn't seem to have a problem leaving her car idling in the driveway while she says goodbye to her girlfriend. Or, at least, gives her a few goodbye kisses.

"I like your friend." Jemma tells her. "He seems very nice."

Skye scoffs and makes a face. "Nice, I don't know about that…" She's not sure how Ward would feel about his St. Agnes reputation being tarnished by Jemma's assessment. "He's always been there for me, ever since we were kids. I can't believe he just showed up to see the play."

Skye lays her head on Jemma's shoulder and Jemma strokes her hair absently; Skye lets out a hum of contentment, closing her eyes. "_This_ is nice." She tells Jemma softly. Just her and Jemma and Lana del Rey singing softly through the car speakers.

"It's kind of strange how things work out, don't you think?" Jemma questions. "If you'd never broken that window, who knows what might have happened between us."

Skye lifts her head and gives Jemma a kiss on the cheek. "Well, in that case, you should drive back to the school. Who knows what might happen if I break a few more." She teases.

Jemma laughs and shakes her head. "Let's not push our luck. I think you've gotten into enough bad girl shenanigans for one year."

They remain in the driveway for a few minutes longer, focusing more on their goodbye kisses than any verbal goodbyes, until Coulson flicks the porch lights a few times and Skye laughs and rolls her eyes and Jemma's ears get pink.

Skye tells Coulson about Ward showing back up and how he wants to stick around long enough to see the play and Coulson mentions loaning him a suit or at least a tie and Skye can't stop laughing as she pictures Ward dressed up in a suit and tie. Definitely not his style.

* * *

Thursday's dress rehearsal makes Skye feel a little more prepared for opening night; Horatio's costume seems to really pull the whole thing together and Jemma helps by pulling Skye's hair back into one long braid that falls down the middle of her back and while she definitely doesn't look like a man, Skye feels less like herself and that makes it easier to run through the lines and remember the blocking and react appropriately to everything else going on around her.

One of the other girls in the cast that has been forced into a traditionally male role starts complaining as soon as she sees Jemma and the actress playing Gertrude in their fancy dresses and May just dismisses her with an eye roll. "In Shakespeare's day, men played all the roles, even the female ones." She informs the bratty girl. "We're breaking tradition here."

Even though Skye thinks the dress rehearsal goes pretty smoothly, that doesn't mean that she's feeling all that confident Friday afternoon when she's trying to practice her lines backstage. The entire theatre is abuzz with activity; grips are running around frantically, making sure that everything is where it's supposed to be and the sound technicians are constantly checking the cues to make sure that everything goes off without a hitch. Skye's palms are sweating uncontrollably and she keeps pacing back and forth as she mutters her lines. "_'Twere good she were spoke with; for she may strew dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds_." She mumbles. "_'Twere good she were spoke with-_"

Someone taps Skye on the shoulder and she whirls around, pushing out a relieved breath when she sees Jemma standing there. Jemma is already wearing Ophelia's simple dress from her first scene but Skye thinks she looks beautiful and she really wants to kiss her right now, even though she's supposed to be practicing her lines.

"You look nervous." Jemma remarks and even though she's got a smile on her face, Skye can tell that she has some jitters of her own. "You'll feel better when we actually start."

Skye scoffs. "Actually, I think that might make me feel _worse_." When she thinks about all those strange faces in the audience…yeah…worse.

Jemma smiles and shakes her head. "Nonsense." She gestures for Skye to turn around so she can braid her hair once more and Skye has to admit that having Jemma play with her hair is a pretty great relaxation technique.

"Thank you." Skye says when Jemma is finished and when she's facing her girlfriend, she realizes that she's not just thanking her for helping her get into character.

Jemma waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, it's nothing really."

"I mean…for everything." Skye runs her fingers nervously across the twists and curves of the braid, glancing down at her feet. She's definitely making great strides when it comes to opening herself up but that doesn't mean that it's easy by any means. "For…just…I mean I know I wasn't the easiest person to get along with at first and I…just thanks I guess." She mumbles.

Thankfully Jemma seems to know exactly what she's trying to say. She leans forward to give Skye a quick kiss and Fitz chooses that exact moment to walk by, muttering "oh for goodness' sake" under his breath as he passes them. Skye just laughs and pulls Jemma in for a hug instead. There will be plenty of time for everything else later. Apparently Coulson's habit of making plans for the future is starting to rub off on her.

Skye resumes her pacing and her muttering when Jemma gets summoned to run through her lines with Fitz and when she hears that people have started filling the theatre, her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks behind the curtain, watching as the seats start filling up.

Of course Coulson is among the first people to arrive. Skye had the feeling that he would be there way too early so that he could get a seat right toward the front and take plenty of potentially embarrassing pictures of her. "It's would Mia would have done." Coulson reminded her the night before when Skye had tried to talk him out of this idea.

Coulson has a bouquet of flowers in his arms and, much to Skye's surprise, has arrived with Ward in tow. And Ward is definitely wearing a suit. Skye would never admit it out loud but he doesn't look as ridiculous as she thought that he might. When they notice Skye watching them, Coulson gives her a thumbs-up and Ward waves and mouths "break a leg" and Skye can't help but smile.

Skye disappears behind the curtain once more and finds that a lot of her nerves have disappeared. A year ago, hell four months ago, she never would have imagined herself in this situation. It's like Hamlet says: more things in heaven and earth than can possibly be imagined. Maybe that Shakespeare guy knew what he was talking about after all.

**end. **


End file.
